


Yes, Doctor.

by NikkiRynne



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Dirty Talk, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Jealousy, Mild Kink, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 04:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2177955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikkiRynne/pseuds/NikkiRynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You begin to take interest in the Medic after a small accident involving Archimedes. However, being the only female on the RED team, your not-so-conspicuous crush begins to upset some of your teammates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Archimedes, You Little Shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is going to be the first chapter of a TF2 series I'm starting, so please bear with me as updates may not come very quickly!
> 
> Please excuse my poor German and correct anything that needs to be corrected! Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated!
> 
> WARNING: Language!!!!

Your fingers hit the keys of the piano delicately, barely earning a note out of each part of the over-sized instrument. Your head bobbed slightly with each sound that escaped the piano, silently keeping track of the lyrics in your head and getting lost in the melody. You weren’t the best pianist, but you were proud of what you could show off.

The men around you silently fiddled about with their trademark weapons and devices. The only sounds being made in the room were the occasional clank of metal parts and your original piece being quietly preformed in the corner. You had to admit that your piano was incredibly out of place in this warehouse-like base that fostered the most brutal and unforgiving (and goofy) men, but with a few strings pulled from your good friend Miss Pauling, you managed to obtain a fairly out of shape piano to waste time on. With some help from Engie, you fixed this piano up as good as new. It wasn’t as nice as you dreamed of performing with, but it sounded just as good.

When your piece ended, you began improvising to provide your teammates with continuous music as they worked. This was the most silent they have ever been. To be honest, it was pretty incredible. Usually, they’re bickering or training or destroying the “house”, leaving you to provide the only house-keeping service they had and giving you no time to play your piano. But something was different about today. Everything was just…peaceful…

You quickly and quietly knocked on the wooden bench you were sitting on to prevent yourself from jinxing the serenity, quickly shifting your eyes to your right to make sure that no one saw you as your silly little superstitions usually make you a target for teasing…you know, besides being the only female on the team. You heard some shifting as if someone was standing up and leaving, and that’s when you knew that you should’ve known better than to try to prevent jinx when you lived with Scout.

“This is fuckin’ borin’,” Scout complained as he stretched himself, bat in hand, and headed out of the room.

“You may not have the patience for classical music, but you don’t have to insult it,” Spy retorted.

“Whateva, I’m outta here.”

You ceased playing, deciding that your empty stomach needed more attention than your musical hobby. The men said nothing as you headed off, the only sounds now being your boots hitting the solid flooring and the polishing of weapons. You gripped the handle of the fridge, dreading what you could possibly find. You let out a shrill squeal, causing the men in the neighboring room to stop what they were doing and turn in your general direction, as Archimedes flew straight out of the fridge and collided with your face, leaving a scratch and flying out the window.

“Fuck, Medic! Can’t you keep track of your birds?” You yelled, hands on your face protecting the newly formed scratch across your right cheek and over the bridge of your nose. Damn, that bird got you good.

“Entschuldigung, liebling,” the man called from the common area. “Are you okay?” You grabbed a bottled smoothie, examined it for bird feces, and shut the fridge.

“Yeah I’m fine, just a scratch,” you answered as you walked back to the room with the other men with your smoothie in hand. You paraded your scratch in Medic’s face. “Am I bleeding? It stings.”

Medic brought a large, gloved hand to your left cheek, lightly bringing your face closer so he could examine your wound. “Ja, a little,” he reported while slightly rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“Can you help me clean it up, then?” Which was kind of a stupid question because 1, of course, he’s a doctor (at least he WAS, until he lost his medical license), and 2, he’s very trigger-happy when it comes to treating people. So much so that it was frightening to come to him with a serious wound. But honestly, you doubt he would go nuts with cleaning up a little blood from your face.

“Ja, follow me.”

You traveled behind him to the medbay on the other side of the RED base, finishing your smoothie on the way and passing a preoccupied Scout hitting homeruns with his bat and some small rocks on the ground. Medic opened the door (which was much too large for you to open by yourself) and you took your usual place on the cot in the middle of the office. Medic closed the door and headed to the sink, grabbing a clean rag out of a drawer and wetting it.

“I apologize about Archimedes. He really gets into the worst places sometimes,” Medic began with his thick accent. You were thankful for Medic being especially gentle with you because you knew all too well that he wouldn’t give a single crap if his dove scratched one of the men. But with you, there was this warmness that he showed. You thought that it was probably because you were a “fragile, helpless damsel in distress” like Scout made you out to be to get under your skin, but Medic didn’t baby you. He showed you the respect you believed was appropriate because let’s face it, even though you’re the most domestic of all the men (by nature), you really kicked ass on the battlefield and got intimidating when you needed to be. You wanted to make sure that the men knew that you earned your spot in their team and you busted your ass getting there and you are busting your ass to stay there.

“It’s fine,” you replied. “It was just so sudden, you know?”

Medic took the damp rag and applied it gently to the bridge of your nose, patting it down the scratch to your right cheek. His other hand was placed lightly on your left cheek, steadying your head as he applied pressure. You could detect the slight hint on cologne on him. “Good thing it wasn’t one of the other doves. Archimedes has the shortest talons.”

You giggled, causing a small smirk to appear on Medic’s face. “Yeah, that’d be unfortunate. I gotta stay pretty for you guys, don’t I?” you joked, trying to make it obvious that you weren’t being serious. You never had time with him alone to joke around, so you weren’t sure if he understood your humor or not.

“Nein, I think you’re a sight no matter what,” Medic replied.

“What does that mean?” you laughed, trying to keep this light, joking atmosphere.

“Nothing,” he answered, avoiding your question. He placed the rag in the sink and grabbed some weird clear mixture in a small bottle and a cotton ball. He unscrewed the cap of the bottle and placed the cotton ball in its place, quickly turning it upside-down and back again. “This might sting, but it’ll keep you from bleeding more.”

“Thanks,” you replied. As the cotton ball came in contact with the bridge of your nose, you flinched. “Shit,” you winced.

“I warned you.”

You inhaled and held your breath as Medic continued to dab your scratch with the soaked cotton ball. Oh god, it burned like hell. Medic took your reaction into consideration and cleaned you up as fast as he could. “Close your eyes, I’m going to blow it dry.”

You exhaled and obeyed, shortly feeling his strangely minty breath hit your face in a cold breeze, making your cut tingle, but it felt a lot better after it was all dried.

“All done?” You asked, still shutting your eyes.

“All done,” he answered. When you opened your eyes, you watched him as he removed himself from your personal space and picked up his bottle, screwing the cap and setting it back in the cabinet that he found it from. He threw the cotton ball away and turned on the sink, washing away the small blood stains in the rag. “If you have something to do, you can go ahead and leave,” he said, his back facing you. You picked up the hint that he wanted to be alone, so you prepared to leave.

“Thank you again. Sorry if I inconvenienced you,” you said as you jumped down from your spot on the cot.

“Danke.”

“What?”                                            

“It’s ‘thank you’ in German. Danke.”

“Danke…” you repeated to yourself, making sure you said it correctly. You looked up at him and thanked him confidently. “Danke, Medic!” You turned on your heel and headed towards the door.

“Bitte, liebling.”

“What does that one mean?” you asked, stopping and facing him once again.

“It means you’re welcome.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” you said with a polite smile. You remembered hearing him call you “liebling” before but you were unsure of what it meant. You decided to let curiosity get the better of you and asked, “Hey, Doctor?”

You could notice a sharp, yet subtle, change in his position upon hearing your call. He stiffened, it seemed like. Were you bothering him?

“Um, do you mind if I asked another question?”

He smirked as he turned off the sink and dried his gloves with another dry rag, turning to face you. “Ja, mein liebling?”

“Um, well it has to do with that, actually,” you said, laughing uneasily. You could feel yourself tensing up. You were pretty intimated by his size, especially when he started walking towards you…like he was doing now. It was almost menacing in a way. “What does that word mean? The one you always call me? Is that like my name in German or something?”

“Liebling?” He laughed, shaking his head ‘no’. “ _Liebling is a special word_.”

“Like…?”

Medic parted his mouth slightly, staring at a piece of your bangs that wasn’t tucked into your ponytail and instead hanging in front of your face. He concentrated on that piece instead of answering your question. Bending down, he took a gloved hand and took the small chunk of [h/c] that covered part of your face. He pulled out a bobby pin from your hair that was keeping the rest of your bangs that couldn’t fit into the ponytail together, and  he let them fall and shape your face. He smiled, his lips together now, and pulled your bangs together again, being sure to include the estranged strands. He fastened them on the top of your head like they were before, and then stood up tall to admire his work below him. It was silent. All that could be heard was the breathing between you two.

“Doctor?” you asked again, not really registering what had just happened.

He tensed up again, his smile leaving and instead letting a stern expression take over his face. You seriously thought you were bothering him now.

“Um, sorry, I’ll go now,” you apologized, still confused as to why he refused to answer your questions. You turned to face the door and stopped, realizing you couldn’t actually open it yourself. You were so embarrassed. Here you are, wasting this man’s time and bothering him and now you have to ask him for help again. ‘Oh god kill me,’ you thought to yourself as you turned around, your face as red as your uniform. You looked up at him and gasped silently. He was absolutely stunning. Somehow, he managed to remove his coat and place it on the cot while you were on your way to the door. The way he looked down at you while removing his glasses and briefly cleaning them captivated you and you had no idea why. ‘God I’m a fucking idiot,’ you cursed in your head. You opened your mouth to ask him for help, but instead could only manage a weak, “…um…heavy…” instead.

He laughed at you and muttered “niedlich” while putting his glasses back on, walking over to the door, towering over you, and pushing it out of your way.

“Um, thank you Doctor…” you said quietly. His breathing got heavier and more audible. Holy shit you never noticed how hot he actually was. This was so incredibly weird to you. You quickly escaped out of the crack and made your way back to the common area, not noticing that Medic was watching your every move, studying every ruffle in your clothes and the way your arms swung when you walked. He readjusted his glasses when you were finally out of sight and returned to his office. 


	2. Damn That Spy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After your run-in with Medic, you hang around with Dell, Tavish, Mundy, and Spy. But what happens when Spy offers you a massage?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! I know Spy is a tiiiiny bit OOC in this chapter, so please forgive me!
> 
> Song is I Walk The Line by Johnny Cash.

“Hey, you okay darlin’?”

Dell looked up at you from his guitar. He must’ve been entertaining the other guys while you were gone. You shifted uncomfortably. You haven’t been in the room for more than thirty seconds and someone already has noticed something.

“What? Yeah, no, I’m fine,” you replied. “Keep playing.” You slouched in your chair and released your [h/c] hair from your ponytail, running your fingers through the ends for detangling purposes. You reached up to let your shorter bangs down from the bobby pin, but decided to leave it.

“Is that strawberries?” Spy said next to you.

“Huh?” you looked at him quizzically. You then realized he was referencing your hair. “Oh! You mean my hair!” You look a lock and leaned over so it was now under his nose. Spy removed his cigarette and inhaled deeply, letting his eyes shut gracefully as he concentrated on the intoxicating smell.

“Ah, oui. That’s it,” he announced to you as he slowly opened his eyes to stare into yours. You smiled politely and leaned back in your chair again, focusing on the music coming from the Engineer. Suddenly, the tune started becoming increasingly familiar.

“Woah, hey, I know this song!” You practically yelled as you sat on the edge of your seat, excited. Spy put the cigarette back in his mouth and gave you his undivided attention. You nodded your head to get a feeling for the beat and where he was in the song. “This is Cash, isn’t it?”

Spy cocked an eyebrow as Dell nodded his head excitedly. You started to hum the lyrics, trying to find the correct octave and register, since you were far from a bass when it came to singing. The other men in the room looked up at you, slightly miffed that you kept breaking the silence. Then you started mouthing the lyrics until you reached a point where you could sing along confidently.

“ _You’ve got a way to keep me on your side._

_You give me cause for love that I can’t hide._

_For you I know I’d even try to turn the tide._

_Because you’re mine, I walk the line._ ”

Spy cocked his eyebrow higher and took a long drag from his cigarette, amused. Your voice was smooth, but obviously not warmed up. You sang again, but this time, Dell accompanied you with a lower octave, creating a beautiful improvised harmony that entertained the small crowd in the room.

“ _I keep a close watch on this heart of mine._

_I keep my eyes wide open all the time._

_I keep the ends out for the tie that binds._

_Because you’re mine, I walk the line._ ”

You slouched back into your chair as Dell finished off the remaining chords of the song.

“That was cute,” Mundy sarcastically critiqued from the corner, annoyed at the new ruckus. You took his comment with a grain of salt and smiled anyway.

“Sang _juuuust_ to annoy you, bud,” you giggled. Spy put his arm on your chair and scooted closer to you, attempting to make conversation.

“You have a beautiful voice, mon coeur,” Spy whispered intimately.

“Really? I don’t think it sounds much different than my speaking voice,” you replied honestly, ignoring the foreign pet name. Dell set down his guitar and shook his wrists, cramped from the playing. As he put his gloves back on, he turned to you.

“I’m gonna get a drink, you want one?” he asked.

“Just some water, please,” you replied politely.

Spy kept his gaze on you. Something wasn’t right.

“Mademoiselle,” he started, “you look tenser than usual.” Spy’s concerned eyes flickered to different parts of your body, then back to your confused face.

“…I do?”

“Would you like a massage?”

You flinched. Spy always offered you massages and what not, trying to keep that seductive façade radiant in front of the other men like a peacock displaying his feathers in an I’m-better-than-you kind of attitude. But he genuinely looked concerned. Why? It was nice to get gentlemanly attention, but you didn’t look out of the ordinary today. The only thing that happened to you was that episode with Medic and it was strange and really-

Oh my god you forgot about the Medic thing.

Your face reddened again as you remembered his eyes staring you down while you two were alone and his drop dead sexy grin and oh God don’t get started on how he looks without his glasses and jacket and JESUS what is wrong with you today because all of this just seems-

Warm.

So….warm?

You snapped out of your inner rambling and registered the two lanky hands working away on your shoulders. You rocked back and forth slightly from the pushing and pulling of your body in Spy’s hands.

“Your face is red, mademoiselle,” he pointed out. “I think the answer is yes, then.” He smirked at you in front of him. You finally understood what happened: he thought you were blushing at his question and took the advantage he had while you were in your trance.

“Oh, nonono, I was just thinking about…” you cut yourself off from explaining. He was talented with his hands. Like, _really_ talented. _Oh, wow_. You could feel yourself becoming putty as his hands explored your shoulders and neck, being sure to move your hair as needed. “You’re really good at this, Spy.”

“Merci,” he said, cigarette still in his mouth. You noted that you should probably say yes to his offers more often.

Dell returned with your water and handed it to you. “Thanks, Dell,” you responded.

Spy began digging deeper into your shoulders, putting you at the point of ultimate relaxation. His hands made sure to pay attention to all of you he could get, applying pressure on your most sensitive spots. But when his finger hit the sweet spot on your neck and massaged it, you let out a soft moan. And that’s where your day went from holy-shit-weird to holy-shit-horrible.

“ _Mmmm…Spy…_ ”

 

Oh **FUCK**. You did **NOT** just moan Spy’s name. To him. In front of Mundy, Tavish, and Dell. Their ears perked and their heads simultaneously swung hardcore in your direction, eyes wider than Scout’s mouth.

“WAIT NO, NONONO!” You jumped from your seat and turned to face Spy, face burning and hands covering your mouth. Spy cocked his eyebrow once more and smirked, crossing his arms. He was obviously satisfied with himself. “I DIDN’T…I… _oh God, fuck me_ …” you said as you buried your face in your hands.

Look, you understood your embarrassment and frustration, but that was NOT the right thing to come out of your mouth. Especially after moaning Spy’s name to him. You immediately realized what you said and your head shot up from your hands as they put up a defensive stance.

“NO, DON’T FUCK ME. GODDAMMIT YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT.”

The other men were erupting in howling laughter and tearing were running down their faces. You could feel your heart stop and your head spin. You knew you were burning all over from the way Spy looked at you. Your legs trembled and you failed to keep your composure.

“I’ll admit, that was nice to hear…”

Damn that fucking Spy.

“…but if I knew I was going to make you moan like that from this, I would’ve taken you out first.” He laughed to himself and you could feel the overwhelming embarrassment and rage pile up inside of you. Your brow furrowed and you shot him a death glare.

“I-I’m…”

“I know, I know. I’m teasing, don’t get so upset,” Spy assured. Like hell you were gonna let him tease you.

“Whatever.” You grabbed your water and walked out, letting the hollering of the other men fade. You made your way outside to cool down, but of course, Spy wasn’t going to leave you alone about this.

“Hey, [f/n]!”

You could hear him calling you from behind you. You didn’t want to stop, but you did. You felt his hand on the small of your back as he appeared next to you.

“Please don’t make some big ongoing joke about this, please?” you pleaded. You felt genuinely weak around him about this. You avoided eye contact with him. He knew your spot now. He had so much power, but you wondered if he knew just how helpless you are when your spot is hit.

“Of course not, mademoiselle,” he replied. You sighed from relief. “However, I cannot promise the same from our teammates.”

You knew that. And you were sure that you’d make all of them pay if they opened their mouths about it.

“Hey, [f/n]?”

“Yes?”

He leaned down so he was face-level with you. He placed a slender finger on your left cheek and turned you towards his face. 'Oh god,' you thought. 'He's putting the moves on me again, isn't he?' You were prepared to dodge out of the way, but he put his lips to your ear and…

“Your singing voice is beautiful, but hearing you moan my name is better,” he mocked.

“ **ROT IN HELL, SPY.** ”


	3. Give Him Dirtier.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Reader accidentally interrupts the rest of the team conversing in the training gym in the middle of the night, she decides to get back at Spy for talking about her slip-up to the rest of the team. But how will it work out when Spy asks her to describe one of her sexual experiences in front of Medic?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little hate-flirting between the Reader and Spy in this one. I'll get back to writing Medic scenes soon! Thank you everyone for the feedback so far!!!

The sky transformed from a light blue to a dark purple. You figured if you were going to be awake in your room for much longer, you needed to turn on a lamp or something. At the moment, you were in sitting cross-legged on your bed in your satin, light pink nightgown with a book open. The only light was coming from a lone candle on your nightstand that erupted the smell of crème brulee, a birthday gift from Miss Pauling. Figuring you were at a good stopping place in your book, you closed it and got out of bed, blowing out your candle on your way out of your room.

You stuck your head out of your door and examined left and right, trying to decide if it was appropriate to walk around in your nightie. You lived on a base full of men, better put that robe on. You closed your door and slid on a night robe hanging on the back of it. You headed out again, walking down the halls trying to figure out what you should do since you were nowhere near tired. You walked all the way outside, across a courtyard, and into a common building. As you shut the double doors behind you, a Bostonian voice broke the silence.

“What tha hell are you talkin’ about? Of course she would!”

Scout?

You cautiously walked down the hallway further to see that the men were all awake and gathered in training gym. Well, it was only 11:15pm, so it wasn’t that much of a shock that they were awake, but in the gym? The men were lounged about, some in pajamas, some in casual wear, debating on an unknown topic. You walked into the unusual scene. Scout notices your sudden appearance and stops talking mid-sentence to give you his attention.

“Oh! [f/n]! What perfect timing,” he says as he walks up and drapes a toned arm around your shoulders.

“What’s going on here?” you asked, genuinely confused. Your eyes scanned the sight before you. Every man stared back at you, some faces serious, some faces amused, some drunk.

“We need a woman’s input on this,” Scout began as he led you to the group. “It’s a serious question.”

You immediately knew the direction this was going. Either they were going to ask you about sex, or they were going to ridicule you again for your slip-up with Spy, who sat properly in a folding chair in the corner near the hand-held weights. You caught his eyes on your patterned robe, examining every detail and every polka dot. His eyes traveled from the ruffled hem, up to the belt that hugged your sides so well, and stopping at the neckline, admiring the slight view of what could possibly be under the damned robe. His eyes caught your glaring ones. You already knew what he was up to. You thought about readjusting your robe, but decided to not let Spy’s flirting get to the best of you. You turned back to Scout. “What’s the question?” you asked hesitantly.

“Well, ya see,” Scout started, “I was talkin’ with Spy over there and he didn’t think ya would sing a certain song for me.”

Mother fucker.

You gulped and could feel your heart racing. You were dreading the answer to your next question. You glared over at Spy again, letting him know that you knew exactly what he was playing. You inhaled deeply, your gaze still on the cocky French man who smirked in response, and asked as coolly and sweetly as you could while still holding your breath, “What song, Scout?”

He started laughing and slapped your back. “Oh, I think ya know the song, sweetcheeks.”

The men in the group started laughing hysterically as you closed your eyes and nodded, releasing your held breath and removing Scout’s arm from your body. You opened your mouth to reply sarcastically, but then another idea hit you. Like a fucking train.

Spy wanted to play dirty? You’ll give him dirtier.

Oh God, you couldn’t believe you were actually going to go through with this. ‘I am a good person,’ you thought. ‘This does not change that.’

“I’ll sing for you.”

The laughing stopped. Everyone was confused. You leaned closer to his ear. You couldn’t believe you thought this was a good idea.

“Just as long as you can last long enough to sing back.”

Scout stared at you, trying to decipher what you had just said. Tavish, Mundy, and Heavy had already caught the joke and started laughing. Then it hit him.

“Oh,” Scout replied. “ _Oh_.”

You could not believe you just said that. You would never flirt with Scout. Of course you’ve done it jokingly before, but now you had to act serious. You allowed your eyes to flicker over to Spy, whose eyes were already locked to yours. He sunk into the chair, it seemed like. He didn’t look amused. You turned back to the group and decided to change the subject.

“Mind if I join you guys? It was getting pretty boring in my room.”

“It won’t be borin’ tonight, babe,” Scout answered back, winking as he did so. You merely smirked in response. Oh God, shut up Scout. You looked for an open spot in the group to settle down in. That was when a familiar sight caught your eyes. Medic’s eyes met yours and he smirked while he scooted to his right, allowing room for you to sit next to him and patting it. You flushed as you looked down at his apparel: a tight white t-shirt (obviously one of the many he must wear under his dress shirts) and loose khaki sweatpants. ‘This must be his sleeping wear,’ you thought to yourself. You smiled back at him and nervously made your way next to him. His eyes were locked onto your petite body as you walked through and around the other men in the group. Unbeknownst to you, as you leaned over to sit down down on the floor, the front of your robe lowered just loose enough for Spy on the other side of the room to get a decent view of your cleavage. He smiled to himself and lit another cigarette, feeling as though he won a prize.

“So what were you guys talking about?” you asked innocently.

The men locked eyes with each other, muttering small “um…”s and looking slightly panicked. You knew they were hiding something from you, so you looked up at Medic for some explanation, but instead of answering you, he replies, “Don’t worry about it, liebling.”

You twitched slightly at the still foreign word. He never answered your question…again.

“We,” Spy suddenly interrupted. He stood up from his chair and included himself into the group more. He took the cigarette and continued, a mischievous glint forming in his eyes, “were talking about love-making.”

Honestly, you expected this reply. It didn’t surprise you. You were in a room full of grown men, most of which haven’t touched a woman sexually in years. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“We were?” Soldier asked, confused.

“We are now,” Spy retorts.

You knew EXACTLY what he was doing. He wanted to see how much sexual embarrassment he could get out of you. After all, to him, that reply to Scout wasn’t fair at all. You might as well play along with him and see how far you could get before he learned that you may be sweet and cute, but you’re just as sarcastic and intimidating as him. But you were NOT as sexy as him, so you needed to step up, and fast if this was the game he was going to be playing.

“Well, tell me. What all did you guys discuss, exactly?” you asked, bringing your knees to your chest and resting your elbow on your knee, laying your chin on your hand, pretending to be interested.

Spy knew exactly what to respond with to get you flustered.

“Sex stories.”

Oh god. You gulped, praying he wouldn’t ask you to tell any.

“Would you like to share yours?”

Mother _fucker_.

You stared him straight in the eyes. Your breathing hitched and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. What do you do? Do you tell them the truth? Or do you exaggerate everything? Your face heated up, and you started shaking subtly. Medic looked down at you, waiting for your response and he noticed your nerves. You could see his eyes on you out of the corner of your eyes, but your eyes remained locked with Spy’s in a heated, challenging stare.

“I’d love to,” you mustered up. It’s time to put your improvisational skills to work. You stood up with your arms crossed and you examined the crowd. You could feel yourself shaking and Medic decided to speak up.

“Liebling, you don’t have to-“

You decided to say ‘fuck it’ and give Spy the best sex story you could come up with on the spot.

“Did I ever tell you guys what my job was before I got hired here?” The men shook their heads and looked at each other, waiting for you to continue. “I danced. A lot. For men.” Dell caught on immediately that you were bullshitting, but he played along with it anyway. “I used to stand up on the stage and dance wearing hardly anything for extra change when I wasn’t blowing people’s brains out. With a gun, not my- Anyways. One night, a man came in wearing a suit,” you began walking towards Spy, who coincidentally was still in his suit, “which wasn’t uncommon. We got a lot of men in suits. But this one was special. He sat right up in the first row and watched me as I did my entire routine. But that wasn’t special about him. What was special was that he looks like someone I know.” You stopped, circling around Spy and making your way over to Scout. “When I was done with my routine, I locked my eyes on his and they never left. I walked down the stairs in my stilettos,” you stopped at Scout, who was sitting on the edge of the boxing ring, “and sat right down on his lap,” as you said this, you sat on Scout’s lap, earning a surprised groan from him, “and began to give him a lapdance free of charge.”

“Oh boy,” Scout exclaimed under his breath, expecting you to grind on him. Instead you continued with your story.

“He was lucky that I was wearing my favorite outfit. I won’t describe it to you; it was pretty inappropriate, but that allowed him to _really_  feel up on me, if you catch my drift,” you said winking at Spy. He kept smirking, amused by your bravery to tell your story. You stood up and walked away from Scout, amazed you got your story this far. You traveled back to your spot with Medic and stood there, for once towering over him. “I was grinding up on him pretty well, apparently, since he was pretty worked up from my dances. I would do this thing where I would straddle him,” you said, grabbing a spare chair by you and straddling it, your back facing the group, “and then I would put my hands around his neck, and bend my back like so,” you demonstrated and bent your back far enough so you were looking at the group again, adjusting yourself as needed to stay on the chair, “and then I would move my hips against his like this,” you demonstrated once more, practically dry-humping the chair, “and it would drive him fucking nuts.”

You removed yourself from the chair and noticed Spy getting uneasy, as well as Scout and Mundy. Some of the men began clapping and laughing. Medic maintained his composure, but gave you a suggestive smirk. Oh god, you could feel your heart dropping. You just gave a chair a lapdance in front of the Medic. You decided to ham it up as much as you could until the end.

“I could feel how hard he was through his suit, and I had to admit that he was fairly attractive, so I whispered in his ear,” you leant down to Mundy and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “I’ve got a room in the back if you’ve got the time.” You stood up again, receiving a holler from Scout. You laughed to yourself. This was actually pretty amusing and fun, you had to admit. “So I took his hand and we headed into the back and I led him to this bed that we have for private lapdances. I asked him,” you bent down to Tavish, amusing yourself, “’What’s your name, babe? I need to know what to scream.’” You stood up again and this time more of the guys hollered. This was pretty fun. “He refused to tell me his name, but he told me to call him…”

You paused. You locked eyes with Spy, trying not to burst out laughing at what you had planned.

“…Monsieur.”

Spy’s eyes widened, but you doubted he was onto your plan.

“So I said, ‘oui, monsieur,’ and pushed him onto the bed. I crawled on top of him started kissing his neck and taking off his suit. He didn’t need to take off my costume. It was easy access,” you said as you winked at Spy again. He was getting incredibly flustered. “And when I finally got him undressed, I took his dick in my hand and licked from the base all the way up to his head. But, I don’t think you guys are interested in me giving a guy a blowjob, so I’ll skip to the good part.”

You noticed as Scout gulped and clenched his fists. Oh God, what you were doing to that boy.

“It didn’t hurt. He wasn’t that big, but he knew how to use it pretty damn well.” You stopped and laughed, pretending to remember part of the story. “Oh god, we did it everywhere. Like, everywhere.” You stopped and smiled, nodding to yourself in approval because of how impressed you were with coming up with this story.

You felt as if it was time to deliver the final blow. You slowly began making your way over to Spy. “And when he finished, he pulled out a cigarette,” you started circling around him making your fingers hold a pantomimed cigarette, “and he pulled on his suit,” you felt your heart racing as you hit the punchline, “and he said, ‘if you ever want to find me again…’” you stopped so your lips could reach Spy’s ear, “…just ask for the BLU Spy.”

You could feel Spy choke on his own spit and the group erupted in the most devilish laughter you’ve ever heard. “OH SHIT” and “JESUS” were amongst the many things shouted in group. Even Medic was losing his shit. Spy, however, was not amused. You tilted your head up so your eyes could catch his cold ones. You triumphantly smiled, patted him on the back, and walked out, leaving Spy alone with a rowdy group of half-hard men.


	4. Exposed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy may not be the gentleman he puts himself up to be...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the kudos and feedback! It's very much appreciated! This chapter is pretty short, but I'm writing another chapter immediately after this is posted. Keep checking back for updates!
> 
> Also writing Peeping Tom Spy is something I've always wanted to write about (///>u>///)

After a satisfactory night's sleep, you awoke to the usual: Scout yelling and banging together things that don't need to be banged together this early in the morning, Heavy releasing his infamously obnoxious laugh, and various versions of "don't touch my stuff" and "get the fuck out of the way" from various men. You turned to your clock on your nightstand that sat next to the creme brulee candle and read the time. Time on deck was 0826, aka, way too early for this much noise. You plopped your head back onto your pillow and tried to motivate yourself to get out of bed, but to no avail. But from the banging sounds and distressed cries from downstairs, you knew you were needed.

  
You flung the covers off of you and walked into your bathroom with a pitiful attempt to pick your feet up off the floor as you did so. Just before you shut the bathroom door, you were summoned by an obnoxious banging on your bedroom door. With a quiet groan, you released yourself from the bathroom and made your way to your bedroom door to heed the call of your mysterious guest...or tell them to fuck off.

  
Your fingers wrapped around the handle and you pulled the door open, revealing the body of a certain young New Englander.

  
"Scout?"

  
"Yeah, hiya toots. I have a favor ta ask ya," Scout answered, obviously uneasy.

  
You groaned and leaned against your door frame. "What?" you asked uninterested.

  
"Can I use ya bathroom?" he pleaded.

 

"What? No, Scout you have your own," you replied annoyed and sleepily as you began to shut the door.

 

Scout stuck his foot in to prevent you from shutting him out.

 

"Well, yeah, ya see, that's the thing," he began. Bothered, you repeated yourself again.

 

"No, Scout. You'll mess mine up."

  
"But yours is so girly and nice and clean!"

  
"If it's that big of a deal, Scout, go make yours 'girly and nice and clean'. Now let me get ready, I need to shower."

  
"Fine. But I need ya laundry. It's Medic's turn and he needs everyone's," he commanded. Since you were getting tired of having to take care of all the housework/domestic chores by yourself, you arranged a chore chart to help you clean up and 'teach the men some goddamn responsibility' as Miss Pauling put it.

  
You agreed and opened your door all the way, allowing Scout to get a view of your room and your nightie. As you turned around to grab your dirty laundry bin, Scout whistled.

  
"Nice getup, there," he commented as he laughed to himself. He crossed his arms and leaned cockily against the door frame, waiting patiently for you to bring him your laundry. You bent down to grab the bin, earning another whistle from Scout. When you reached him again, you shoved the bin into his ribs.

  
"Stuff it, player."

  
He laughed and grabbed the bin from your hands. "Nah, really. It looks nice. Genuine compliment. Nothin' sleazy." He nodded at you, giving you his 'Scout's honor'.

  
You laughed in return. "Well thank you," you said, twirling around to show off your nightgown. "Now let me shower."

  
Scout laughed again. "Alright. See ya later."

  
You shut the door and headed to your dresser, opening the top drawer for your usual red tanktop and khaki capri's. You shut the drawer and opened the one below it, grabbing a nude bra and-

  
Oh no.

  
You felt around frantically for a sign of panties, but none reached your hand. 'Dammit,' you swore to yourself. 'I must've given all my panties to Scout.' You closed the drawer, realizing that you were left with no choice but to go commando. 'Oh God...'

  
You found your way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. As you undressed, another knock hit your door. 'Jesus, will I ever get to shower?' you questioned to yourself. Too lazy to put your clothes back on, you wrapped a towel around you and walked out, letting the shower water heat up while you were gone.

  
You opened the door as little as possible, hoping whoever was bothering you wouldn't notice you were...well...naked. No one stood before you. You opened your door wider and stepped out cautiously, looking down both sides of the hallways to see if you could catch whoever disturbed you. You could feel a slight draft on your right side, so you shrugged it off as Scout ding-dong-ditching and walked back into your room to get into the warm shower, closing your door behind you. Once you were in the bathroom, you decided to crack the bathroom door open to let steam escape. You hung the towel keeping you decent over the railing of the shower curtain and stepped in, enjoying every water droplet that hit your shivering body.

  
But little did you know, a pair of invisible eyes were waiting for you to step out. They watched as each drop ran from your head, down your hair, and all the way down to the shower floor, making sure to ride each and every bump and curve on your body on the way down.

  
When you were finished, you shut the water off and dried yourself off briefly before opening the shower curtain all the way. You stepped out and walked straight to your bed to grab the clothes that awaited you. You heard a knock on your door for a third time. Audibly groaning, you clung your towel closer to your body and opened the door.

  
The last thing you wanted to see was that cocky grin of Spy's, and yet, there it is.

  
"Now's not a good time, Spy," you said, motioning to your towel.

  
He shook his head and chuckled. "Non, non, non. I completely understand. I wouldn't want you to feel...exposed." He winked at you and began walking away, still chuckling to himself.

  
'What the hell?' you asked yourself. You shook it off and closed the door, heading towards the bed to finally dress yourself. 'What was that about?'


	5. Liebling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get called down to the Medbay to speak with Medic, but why exactly did he call you down there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too satisfied with this chapter, but I hope it's decent! Here's some more Medic/Reader scenes!!!

Feeling fresh and primped, you made your way downstairs to scan what possible commotion could be going on down there. You readjusted your capris to make sure no one knew you weren't wearing panties. You breathed in and out, preparing yourself to deal with the hell that is sharing a space with these men.

  
"Good morning everyone," you greeted with a smile. You noticed you were only in the company of Dell, Travis, Mundy, and Scout at the breakfast table. You looked around, searching for everyone else. "Where is everyone?"

  
Dell walked over with a plate of pancakes and a glass of milk and set them in front of you as soon as you sat down. "Who knows?"

  
"True. Thanks for making breakfast. Sorry I woke up later than usual."

  
"I swear, you wake up as early as me sometime," Mundy confessed from the opposite side of you, reading a magazine and sipping some coffee.

  
You cut a triangle in your pancakes and shoved a forkful in your mouth, moaning at the taste.

  
"Mmmm, Dell, these are amazing!"

  
"Thank ya," Dell replied, tipping his hat and cleaning of the stove.

  
You watched as Travis and Scout played a quick game of card on the edge of the table. Scout flinched and gritted his teeth as Travis won and grabbed the coins in the middle of them while laughing. Then, Scout turned to you.

  
"Oh hey, before I forget," he started, "Medic said he wanted to see you in his office or whateva."

  
You remembered your last interaction with him in his office, which caused you to almost choke on the bits of pancake in your mouth. Controlling yourself and downing the glass of milk, you responded to Scout. "Oh, I'll be over there right away then."

  
"Breakfast first. You deserve a hot meal before runnin' any errands," Dell commanded.

  
_________________________________________________________

  
You stood in front of the heavy, familiar door that stood between you and Medic. Your hand shook as you brought it up to knock on the steel. One. Two. Three. You could hear rustling and footsteps approaching the door slowly. Your adrenaline started rushing. 'What does he need to see me for? Is he going to talk to me about last night? Did I do something wrong?'

  
The door slid open and revealed the doctor himself with a warm smirk.

  
"Ah, guten morgen liebling! You got my message from Scout, ja?" He asked happily, standing aside to let you into his office. You walked past him, breathing the familiar air in deeply.

  
"I did, is there a problem, Doctor?" You asked as you jumped onto the cot, being used to your routine. He closed the door and removed his glasses, cleaning them as he walked towards you.

  
"Nein, I just wanted to check up on that number Archimedes gave you." He put his glasses back on and took your face in his hands. He pulled up slightly so your face was closer to his and in the light. He turned it left and right, examining the scratch. "Well, it looks much better than yesterday."

  
"Good!"

  
"I apologize again for Archimedes startling you," he replied solemly. He let go of your face.

  
"Oh, no, it's fine. Please don't worry about it, Doctor."

  
He inhaled deeply and straighten his back, looking down at you darkly again. You felt yourself getting nervous again. Why did he look at you like that? He stared at you for a few more seconds and then let his gaze fall to your lap, taking a quick look at you and then meeting your eyes again. You shifted in your seat nervously. He took note of this and stated, "You look tight, liebling. Very tense."

  
He started to walk around the cot to the sink. He grabbed a plastic cup and filled it up with water to bring back to you.

  
"Yeah, I've been getting that lately, actually," you said as you shrugged and giggled nervously. He brought the plastic cup to you and motioned for you to take it. Your small, soft hand brushed against his large, calloused one as you took the cup from him. "Danke."

  
He perked up slightly. "Ah, you remember our lesson from yesterday," he pointed out, quite impressed. He watched as you sipped on the cool water. You turned to look at him and noticed that you had his full, undivided attention. Now was the time to bring up your questions.

  
"Doctor, I don't know if you remember from yesterday, but I asked a question and you never answered it..." you mustered out, your voice trailing off at the end and you tried to avoid eye contact. He chuckled and shook his head, getting up to walk around and clean his glasses again.

  
"Nein, I remember."

  
There was slight hesitation as you opened your mouth. "So, what does that word mean, exactly?"

  
He sighed and put his glasses in their respectful place. He walked towards you again, his boots making harsh clanking noises on the tile.

  
"If I told you," he started, "you wouldn't respond as positively as you do now."

  
You gulped as he started getting closer to you. "H-How do I react?"

  
You noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes. He brought a gloved hand to your cheek and stroked it. You could get another hint of the cologne on him. "Your face flushes," he reports. He moves a finger to trace your lips, "and you smile. You like it when I call you 'liebling', yet you have no idea what it means."

  
He removed his hand from your face. Your body was tingling. You needed his touch like you needed air.

  
"W...What are you getting at, Doctor?"

  
"What I'm getting at is," he paused, continuing to stare you down. "If I were to call you liebling in another setting, I wonder how you would react then." His eyes locked onto yours, taking in the breathtaking [e/c] that made up your iris. His gaze travelled down to your pink lips, pressed together in a quizzical pout. Next, he took in your position: knees pressed together, arms shaking, heavy breathing. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, even if it wasn't registering in your mind. To him, you looked...vulnerable. It was delicious. He could see the way your chest expanded and deflated with every breath, pushing your breasts out and retreating again. He watched them for a few seconds before he looked back up to your face. Your light pink face was turned to the right slightly, trying to avoid his gaze. He was making you nervous. He could see it. But he paid more attention to the feelings you were giving him, perched up on his cot, hot and nervous, practically begging to be touched. And you were. You needed him to touch you again.  
You felt slightly ashamed for making yourself look foolish in front of Medic. If you were so curious, you should've asked someone else instead of him.  
"Oh, that's right, I have your laundry," he reminded himself, quickly changing the tone from intimidating to cheerful and light. He walked over to the corner of his office and grabbed your bin, filled with clean, folded clothes. He brought it to you and you noticed immediately that all of your panties laid on the very top of the pile, folded neatly. You quickly took it from him, hoping he didn't spend too much time looking at your lacy panties. 'Oh God, could this get worse?' you asked yourself as you felt your face display a darker pink than it did before.

  
"Thank you, Doctor. I really appreciate it," you said as you took the bin and hopped down from the cot. You decided to excuse yourself and Medic caught on. He walked over to the door with you and held it open as you walked out.

  
"And liebling," Medic called.

  
"Yes, Doctor?"

  
"I enjoyed your story last night. Was that a true story?"

  
Mother.

  
Fucker.

  
He leaned smugly again the door, waiting for your response. You felt your heart drop. Your headed pounded. You had forgotten all about your story last night...and how Medic heard it all.

  
"Um..." you stammered out, "not...entirely. I just wanted to get on Spy's nerves, you know?" You laughed nervously, hoping Medic would find it humorous. Because Lord knows you did not find it funny anymore.

  
"I see."

  
You turned around with your laundry and tried to walk away as fast as possible. Medic stayed behind and watched you walk away, fiddling with a set of your panties in his pants pocket. He bit his lip, proud of himself knowing that he had the power to get you right where he wanted you.


	6. Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy sits alone in his smoking room thinking about the Reader, and he finally comes to a conclusion...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for your support and patience, I know it's been a few days since the last chapter was released, but I finally have some spare time since I've been spending it shopping for a new car and watching and tending to the house and our pets while my sister starts college. But I hope to knock out a few more chapters tonight!
> 
> If you guys have any suggestions or criticism or have an idea of what you would like to have happen as this story progresses, please do not hesitate to message me or leave a comment, because I love you guys and I'm writing for your entertainment, so I want to do a good job!
> 
> Enjoy chapter 6, everyone! Sorry it's so short! Chapter 7 will be out suuuper soon!

The French man sat alone in his smoking room, staring into the fire roaring in the fireplace and swishing around the red wine in the glass in his hand. He took an exaggerated drag from his cigarette and discarded the ashes into the ashtray. He observed as the flames swung around in their cage, begging to be let out so they could dance around his room. He was enticed by the flames' beckoning, and in its image, he could have sworn he saw the reflection of a certain woman that had been haunting him as of late. His attraction towards the mirage knew no bounds. She was perfect. Every bump and crevice and loose hair was in perfect place, as if he were staring into the beauty herself.

  
He didn't know why he was so interested in this woman, but yet, at the same time, he couldn't name a reason not to be. Sure, she didn't have as much class or grace as the ladies Spy usually courted and pleased, but he found that to be endearing. Every little mistake, every trip, every disappointment in her hand-eye coordination, every stutter, every flaw was perfect to him.

  
He was going to need more wine.

  
He thought about all the reasons her imperfections made her perfect and all the reasons her perfection made her invincible and him completely and utterly vulnerable, but he wouldn't dare tell himself that he fancied her more than usual. She was a project. His domestic, charming, unsuspecting project. And he planned to keep her that way.

  
Never did he dream about greeting her in the mornings after. Never did he dream about making her happy every day. Never did he dream about keeping her close to him and letting her grow completely on him, forcing him to abandon his socializing with other woman and pay attention to her and only her, for the rest of his life. Never did he think for one second about loving her for more than one night.

  
She wasn't a crush. She was a challenge. She was a trophy.

  
For now.

  
That could change as quick as a minute or an hour or a day. And it killed him to know that with one little twitch, he could fall in love with her.

  
He was going to need a _lot_ more wine.

  
Because when he heard her knock on his door and ask to come in to talk to him, he fell in love with her.


	7. Under Your Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your conversation with Spy turns sour quickly, and you don't know why, but you're starting to feel suspicious about Spy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too fond of this chapter, but I also feel like I'm just kinda in a funk right now anyways. So forgive me because I know it's not perfect. It's just more bickering with Spy, but things will start heating up soon, I promise!
> 
> Thanks for holding out with me for so long. The climax of the story is coming, I hope you guys can feel it! Once again, ideas and suggestions are always welcome! Enjoy, you guys!

"Just a minute," Spy called from his chair. He destroyed his cigarette, smashing it haphazardly into the ashtray, and set his wine on the end table. He pulled his mask over his face and stood up out of his chair to answer the door.

  
He was fucked.

  
When he opened the door, he looked down at your person, fiddling with your [h/c] locks and returning your gaze to the door to meet his eyes. Your expression was the child of Nervous and Irritation. "I need to talk to you," you stated.

  
"Come in," Spy welcomed as he stepped out of the way and motioned for you to enter.

  
"Uh, the smell of smoke kinda makes my stomach upset when there's a lot of it. Can I just talk to you out here?"

  
Spy furrowed his brow and stepped out of his room, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it.

  
"This is about last night," you started.

  
Spy crossed his arms and delicately raised an eyebrow, expecting an apology. "I'm listening."

  
You sighed, preparing yourself for another improvised speech. After your run-in with Medic, and after him asking about your story, you figured an 'apology' was due. In hindsight, you could've just said 'no' instead of making Spy uncomfortable and irritated. "Okay, well, I was thinking about my story and everything that I told you, and I mean, you know that wasn't true, right?"

  
"I figured."

  
"Yeah, and I-"

  
"You could never work as a stripper, anyways."

  
You paused, speechless. "Excuse me?" What the hell was that supposed to mean? Is he upset that you messed with him?

  
He chuckled, "For one, you barely take risks."

  
You blinked twice in disbelief. "Look, I don't know what you're trying to say but it's not making me feel very good about myself."

  
"I didn't say that you would make a bad one."

  
"Yeah, but that kind of implies it." You began to become defensive. "Look, I'm trying to apologize for making fun of you last night."

  
"I know."

  
"So what's the problem? I feel like you're insulting me."

  
"I'm just saying that I knew it was a joke."

  
"You're not really answering my questions, Spy."

  
By now, Spy was smirking. He was enjoying this. "You could be a stripper if it really means that much to you-"

  
"It doesn't! My home is here, and I don't want to work as anything else. Just let me figure this out, are you calling me ugly?"

  
Spy laughed out loud this time. He threw his head back and you clenched your fists. Yup. He's calling you ugly. You knew it, that bastard.

  
When he calmed down, he finally explained himself, "Oh, merde, no. You are far from it, mademoiselle."

  
"Okay, so what did you mean I 'couldn't' be a stripper?"

  
Just then, Spy got a devilish idea. "This is silly. You want to prove me wrong?"

  
"Sure."

  
"Prove to me you're comfortable with no clothes on. Drop your clothes. Bra and _panties_ only. Then tell me you're comfortable enough to dance around like that."

  
He smirked as a look of dread came across your face. No panties. You weren't wearing panties. It was almost as if...he knew. You gulped.

  
"Is this some kind of joke?" You stopped yourself and took in a deep breath. "Look, I don't care anymore. I'm sorry for making fun of you last night. Thanks for taking time to talk to me." You turned on your heel and walked away from Spy as fast as you could. Your head was pounding trying to get an answer out of that impossible man. Seriously, what the fuck was his deal? It probably meant nothing but the way he said it just made you feel uncomfortable and inadequate. You were just done. Whatever, you didn't HAVE to apologize to him. You were the better person, and that helped bring you peace as stormed farther and farther away from Spy.

  
You could TOTALLY become a stripper. You looked fine, there was nothing wrong with you. And you liked to dance and were comfortable in your body.   
Why would he even say that? Like, how did that contribute to the conversation?

  
You shook it off. He's just trying to get under your skin. He's just trying to get under your skin. He's just trying to get under your skin.


	8. Gute Besserung, Liebling.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader makes themselves horribly sick by trying to avoid Medic and Spy for a few days, which forces them to become face-to-face with the German man who holds their affection. But with a slip of the tongue during a fever and copious amounts of painkillers, Dell becomes suspicious of what really is going on between the reader and Medic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAH CHAPTER EIGHT! This has quite a bit of language, especially at the beginning, so be warned!
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do. It's kinda cheesy and filled with bad metaphors, but it's 2:30 AM right now and I'm dead tired. Enjoy! As always, suggestions and ideas are always accepted! Thank you guys for holding out this long! The climax is coming soon....
> 
> ((Also, the reader is described to be pale in this scene, but that doesn't necessarily mean they're white. It means sickly pale for their normal skin tone. Just thought I'd clear that up!))

Having to put up with Spy's weird dumbass motherfucking jealous cocksucking BULLSHIT made you feel suspicious all damn day. Okay, maybe the cursing wasn't necessary, but honestly, this flirting was making you feel uncomfortable and uneasy. He NEVER did this to you. Well, he'd flirt with you now and then and try to be seductive and stuff, but this was just ridiculous. He just insulted you...you think...and then played it off like nothing was wrong. This entire situation was confusing as hell. What was even going on? Nothing in your life made sense right now. Everything was fine until that Archimedes shit happened, and now it seems like the relationships you established with Spy and Medic as colleagues was completely destroyed and turned into some weird predatory bullshit in which you were the victim and they hunted for you. And what makes it worse is that you don't even know what you did to start all of this. They were acting so out-of-character. You couldn't look Medic in eyes anymore because your stomach would churn and you'd put up these weird defenses that you didn't even know you were capable of putting up. You started avoiding him for literally no decent reason and you cursed yourself because no matter what you did, you just couldn't feel comfortable in your own home. And don't even get started on Spy. After that moaning business, he's acting like an abusive dick and keeping hateflirting with you for LITERALLY nothing. He knew damn well that you weren't interested, right? Like, you didn't think you did anything to give him a reason to start flirting with you besides the moan, but does that even count as a reason? He made you moan while giving you a massage, big whoop. That doesn't mean he can act like a high-and-mighty douche towards you now. He just needs to get his skinny ass off that damn high horse of his and leave you alone.

  
You put your head in your hands as you sat outside, ranting to yourself about your feelings because God knows that no one here is going to listen. It's just 'girl problems' or something, you don't know. Besides, you didn't want to drag anyone in this that didn't need to be involved, although it seems like Spy already has, seeing as how everyone knows about your slip-up, WHICH WASN'T EVEN THAT BAD IN RETROSPECT BY THE WAY, and it feels like everyone won't stop looking at you funny. It's like they know something about you that you don't, and that's really pissing you off. You can say hello to Tavish and Heavy and Pyro all you want, but even they won't hold a decent conversation with you. It feels like you were being avoided by everyone. Like you had a disease and no one wanted near you.

  
At least, that could easily be your paranoia getting the better of you.

  
You spent the next few days in your room reading your books and being a recluse when you weren't battling or training. As an extrovert, it made you constantly exhausted and even a little sick, but you figured that waiting this whole social switch thing out by yourself would fix everything, and you were kind of right.

  
When you went downstairs 5 days later, you were greeted by Dell and Heavy bombarding you with concerns about your health and how much they've missed and worried about you, and honestly, it felt pretty good. You felt wanted, and for a good reason. You had completely forgotten that these men actually needed you. Not only as a teammate or a housemaid, but as a friend. They were genuinely worried about you.

  
Dell put a large, blocky hand up to your forehead. You looked incredibly pale and your forehead was close to burning up. He immediately retracted his hand and looked at you with sad eyes.

  
"Darlin', you don't feel too good, do ya?" He asked.

  
"Not really. Just personal stuff. It's nothing bad. I'm a little stressed, is all," you replied.

  
"That's not what I mean. You look pretty sick," he said. He examined you all over, taking in every discrepancy. "We need to get you to Medic. He'll take care of ya."

  
Your eyes widened. "What?! No, no, no; I'm fine, really." You were way too embarrassed to be dealing with Medic right now.

  
"[F/N]..." Dell scolded. You couldn't see his eyes, but you knew that they were piercing yours right now. He was right. You felt like ass. You made yourself sick up in your room. What's it called? Cabin sickness? Cabin fever? Something like that.

  
You couldn't deny his orders. You nodded in agreement and let Dell escort you to Medic's office, where you knew he would be.

 

 

"One request, though," you said as the two of you reached the familiar steel door, "you can't leave me alone with him."

  
Dell pursed his lips in confusion. "Okay...sure thing," he agreed. He slid open the door and the two of you were now face-to-face with the doctor himself.

  
"Oh, goodness, I didn't know you two were standing there!" Medic exclaimed, startled by your sudden appearance. "How are you?"

  
"[F/N] ain't feelin' too hot," your friend explained for you. "I think she's got a fever, but I'm not sure. Can ya take a look at her?"

  
Medic shifted his gaze from his short teammate to his even shorter companion. He checked you out with a furrowed brow and concerned frown. "Mein gott..." he whispered as he looked into your sunken eyes and pale face. "You don't look good at all..."

  
"Thanks," you replied sourly. Dell chuckled. At least you didn't emotionally feel sick.

  
"Come lay down, I'll check you out." You and Dell followed the German man to the cot and Dell helped lift you onto the raised bed.

  
It went on like any other exam. He checked your vitals like a normal doctor and asked you normal doctor questions, and thankfully, acted like a normal doctor. Not that weird dark, creepy, confusing shit you've been seeing lately.

  
And due to the fever messing with your head and the painkillers Medic just gave you, you decided to make a bad choice and ask him about it.

  
"Hey, Medic?" you asked, obviously loopy. "Why are you treating me differently?"

  
Medic turned to you, confused. "Excuse me?"

  
"Well, I mean, it's like, when you have me alone, you act all weird and dark and kind predatory and I'm just like, I don't know what the fuck is going on, but like, it's kinda hot at the same time," Medic raised a brow at you, amused, "but it's weird now because you aren't doing it anymore and I kinda like when you're all chill like this, but like, at the same time, I also think that you're reeeaaaalllllyyyyyy hot when you do that thing."

  
Dell looked at Medic accusingly. "What in the hell is she talking about?"

  
"I have no idea, honestly," Medic falsly claimed, an amused smirk painted on his face. "Must be the painkillers."

  
Your eyelids began to get heavy and you could REALLY feel those painkillers kicking in. In an instant, you fell asleep peacefully on the cot in front of Dell and Medic. The older man tapped your cheek with his index finger and declared you to be in a deep sleep.

  
Dell, still suspicious, looked up at Medic. "She's gonna be okay, right?"

  
Medic pulled off his gloves and sat them down on the counter by the sink. "Ja," he confirmed. "She must get plenty of rest, though. I will visit her periodically to give her more medicine and take her vitals. Though I admire your concern, I would advise you to stay away from her. We don't know for sure what she might have and it might be contagious. I highly doubt it though. I think it's just a flu-like virus. We should be able to wait it out. If she is not better within a week, I will run some more tests. She may not be able to battle for a while. That will leave us at a disadvantage."

  
"Her health is more important," stated Dell.

  
"Absolutely." Medic looked down at your sleeping state. "We should take her to her room."

  
"Agreed."

  
The men gathered your new belongings and Medic carried you bridal-style back to your room. With you in his arms, he felt protective. He hated seeing you sick. The same goes for Dell. Medic noticed how light you were in his arms. You felt like you didn't weigh a thing. Either Medic had gotten stronger, or you were incredibly underfed, which could have lead to your sickness and how hard the drugs hit you. He noticed that silly piece of hair that consistently refused to be put in it's place. He smiled, wondering if you know how special you were to him. When you were first introduced to him, he knew for a fact that you would be an interesting experiment. Not scientifically or medically, but romantically. When you stuck out your tiny hand to shake his big one, his heart, which was once believed to be made of stone, had began to warm. Every time he saw you since then, those 3 years ago, his heart's heat got more intense. Of course, he knew that if he pursued you, he'd fuck up royally. Medic was not a gentleman. He was not husband material, and he was definitely not stable. He believed himself to be a monster. He would find beautiful things and crush them and destroy them and find a sadistic kick out of opening up the beautiful things and watching the beautiful spill out of them like a child cupping it's hands together under a running sink.

  
He was not made to love. He was made to grossly enhance items until they became the bastard child of Loss and Revenge. He was made to make things powerful yet undesirable. He was made to see the line between good and evil, beautiful and ugly, human and inhuman as blurred and confusing. Things did not make sense in his head, mostly because he wondered if he had a conscience at all. But he would take one look at you on the battlefield, standing tall and confident on a high box behind the enemy with a bow and arrow attached to your delicate hands, concentrated on making every move perfect, and he would realize what it really meant to be a good, beautiful human. It wasn't making all the right choices or turning every project into a fully functional piece of aesthetically pleasing art. It wasn't working in a job that was made to create life instead of inflict harm and death. It wasn't being small or thin or pale or rich or able-bodied or deemed "desirable" by society. It wasn't being perfect at anything.

  
True goodness, true beauty, true humanity, was you. It was the confidence and fearlessness you displayed in everything you did, even when you weren't sure about it being the right thing to do. It was the integrity to admit your mess-ups and faults and to not hold onto your pride. It was the responsibility you took to take care of yourself and the people you cared about. It was the peace you brought him. It was the peace you brought everyone, just by existing. It was your kindness, your caring, your honesty, your trustworthiness, your morals, and your humor. To him, it was everything about you, and that made Medic aspire to be like you. He didn't want to break things anymore. He wanted to create things. He wanted to be confident in what he did and not feel scared of himself anymore. He wanted to take pride in what he did, just like how you took pride in what you did.

  
It almost seemed like you were created to balance him out. And the way you were curled, just perfectly snug in his arms, made him realize that he did not have to believe himself as a monster anymore. He could be a friend. A lover. Anything, as long as it had something to do with you. He wanted to create beautiful things with the most beautiful woman he had ever had the pleasure to know. And although he was terrified of breaking you, and he will always be terrified of breaking you, he knew that as long as you were as committed to loving him as he was committed to loving you, everything was going to be okay.

  
He set you down on your bed, hesitant to let you go. His heart was overheating. He caressed your face gently and twitched slightly when you brushed your face against his hand, as if to let him know that you cared as much for him as he cared for you. Dell helped him tuck you under your covers and position you comfortably.

  
"We should let her rest," Medic spoke, breaking the silence. "I'm going to stay here and monitor her for a few minutes. Feel free to continue what you were doing."

  
Dell stood still, his suspicion rising higher and more intensely until the first light bulb went off. Medic wanted him gone because he wanted alone time with you. He wasn't going to monitor you. There was something going on between you two, and Dell, as your protective best friend, was going to get to the bottom of it.

  
"Sure thing, partner," Dell said coldly and exited the room. He stayed quiet, his back against the wall, listening into the room for any clues.

  
Medic watched your chest rise and fall slowly, listening to your shallow breathing and appreciating the beauty that was your innocence as you slept. He put his hand against your cheek to check for a fever again. Still warm. Not as intense, but still a low fever. He let his hand linger, his thumb rubbing against your skin lovingly.

  
Dell could hear a muffled, "Gute Besserung, liebling," and with a confused pout, walked down the hallway to begin asking around.


	9. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader wakes up after a drug-induced sleep to find Medic tending to her. When Medic leaves to go prepare some soup for the reader, Spy confronts him about his interest in the reader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deeply apologize for the long wait, everyone. Things down here took a turn for the worse, and it delayed my writing. My family is recovering from it, although slowly, and I hope to be able to get chapters out more frequently, hopefully daily. Please keep my sibling in your thoughts and prayers, they need as much positive energy as they can get right now. Thank you so much for your patience and your comments/kudos/views/etc. It means a lot!
> 
> Due to the family issues, what was going to be the climax will now be altered and delayed for a few more chapters while we all cope and get through what we're going through. Please be patient with me as I try to finish the story as quick as I can!

You awoke to the slight sound of rustling coming from the corner of your room and the worst stomach pains in the world. Eyes still shut, you rolled over onto your side and clutched your stomach, writhing in pain and letting out a small groan. You tried to bury your face as deep in your pillow as you could. Your small groan caught the attention of the perpetrator causing the rustling. He gasped and made his way over to your bed quickly.

"Liebling, you're awake," Medic greeted softly, putting a bare hand just above your forehead and petting your head to calm you down. "Are you okay?"

Without questioning what happened, how you got to your bed, and why Medic was there, you replied sharply, "No, my fucking insides are being destroyed."

Medic removed the comforter of your bed off your top half to examine what was exactly hurting you. He caught sight of you clutching your stomach. "Are you experiencing stomach pains?"

You nodded your head, wincing.

"Is it nausea or like a cramping?" He asked as he removed your hands from your stomach and placed his own in their place.

"I feel like I'm being stabbed..."

"Cramping." Medic pressed down lightly, causing a groan of pain to force its way from your mouth. "Does this hurt?"

"God, yes."

He pressed in other areas, under your ribs, above your hip bones, and right above your pubic bone, each time earning small groans from you. "On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?"

"Fifteen."

He removed his hands and reached for a fresh glass of water sitting on your nightstand that was waiting for you when you awoke. He handed it to you, helping you sit up and take small sips from it. "Have you eaten anything today?"

You finished sipping from your water and gave it back to Medic, who kept it in his hand just in case you wanted it again. His eyes shone with concern. "No, not today."

"Scheisse, and I gave you all that medicine," he cursed to himself as he set your glass of water back onto the nightstand. "You need to eat something. Let me go grab you some food."

As he got up to leave, you realized just exactly what was happening: you were sick and Medic was taking time out of his day to take care of you. Not wanting him to leave, you grabbed his large, calloused hand and he stopped. "Wait!"

He turned to you, confused. "Was ist das, liebling?"

He looked into your eyes and you looked back, hypnotized. Your heart rate increased dramatically and you could feel yourself sweating. You had no idea why you grabbed him like that. You didn't want him to leave, but you couldn't tell him that as an excuse. "U-Um," you stuttered. You examined his face and all of his beautiful features. He was relaxed in your company, but you could tell he was still tense. Was he worried about you? You shook your head slightly and let go of his hand. "It's nothing," you lied. "Nevermind."

His concern turned into a warm and gentle smile, for he admired how adorable you were when you were flustered. "I'll be right back, liebling. Don't worry," he reassured. And with that, he turned and walked out your bedroom door, making sure to take one more glance at you before he left.

You sunk in your bed, still clutching your stomach. What was going on? You remember going to see Medic with Dell, and you remembered him giving you all sorts of medicine, but you didn't remember anything after that. But now you were in your bed, and Medic was in your room...

'Oh, dammit,' you thought to yourself as you smacked yourself on the head. 'I must've passed out and they carried me here.' You checked to make sure you were still dressed in the attire you wore when seeing Medic. Yup, you were all in-tact. But how long were you asleep? You shifted to your left and read your clock. 1730. God, were you passed out for THAT long? Those must've been some hardcore drugs...

You laid back into your bed after taking another sip from your water and waited impatiently for Medic to return.

\---

Meanwhile, Medic took his place in the kitchen and started looking for any soups or breads, something easy on the stomach. He was so concerned with finding something quick for you that he didn't notice the clanking of dress shoes getting louder and louder behind him.

A final clank. Silence. Then, the clearing of a throat.

Medic turned around and took in the lanky man before him. 

"Ah, good afternoon, Spy," Medic greeted nonchalantly before turning back around and grabbing a can of chicken broth from a cupboard.

"Bonjour," Spy greeted back. He took in every movement of Medic's before finally questioning, "What are you doing?"

Medic opened the can and poured it into a preheating pot on the stove. "Cooking," he replied matter-of-factly.

Spy raised an eyebrow. "You don't cook."

"I do now."

"What's the special occasion?" Spy laughed.

"I'm making soup for [f/n]," Medic replied coldly, too focused on his work to fake enthusiasm in the presence of Spy.

"Why?" Spy asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Out of everything Medic could be doing, he was cooking. And out of everyone he could be cooking for, it was YOU. 

"You're very full of questions today, Spy," Medic pointed out. Spy scoffed at the disrespect. "She has been sick. Have you not noticed her never around lately?"

Spy paused, thinking back to your banter a few days ago. Of course he noticed. He thought he ran you off. He thought he made you so angry that you refused to come out of your room. Honestly, he felt like an asshole. He thought about you every second that you were gone, but never brought himself to actually ask if you were okay. The only reason he was even bothering talking to Medic was because he heard from Dell that Medic was with you earlier today. "Of course I've noticed."

Medic stirred the broth on the pot before chopping up a stick of celery he found in the fridge. He didn't bother to respond. He wasn't interested in talking to Spy. People rarely were, and Spy was used to that. He didn't mind, though. He usually saw himself as above everyone anyway. Medic chopped up the celery and added it to the broth.

Spy continued to observe Medic's mannerisms. He would shift his gaze from the pot, to the clock, to whatever was in his hands, to the pot, and back to the clock again, occasionally picking up his pace afterwards as if he decided he wasn't frantic enough. Spy wasn't stupid, he knew something was happening. Medic doesn't cook. But he's cooking for you. Something's not right.

"May I ask you a question?" Spy began, slowly jumping to a conclusion he never thought he would be in a position to conjure up.

"Ja, what is it?" Medic asked, uninterested.

"How do you feel about [f/n] being sick?" 

Medic hesitated in his response and his actions, questioning why Spy was so concerned with what was happening. He peered over his glasses, his head still hanging low from his preparation, and look at Spy curiously. "What kind of a question is that?" Medic asked cautiously and slightly harsh.

Spy crossed his arms and leaned up against the table. "Are you worried?"

The corner of Medic's mouth twitched. He resumed his activities at his previous pace, deciding he didn't have the time nor patience to take part in banter with Spy. "Of course. I'm a doctor. It's my job."

"It's not your job to be worried," Spy retorted immediately. 

Medic paused for a moment. "...I'm her friend, as well." He dumped the rest of the chopped vegetables into the soup, turning his back to Spy. He knew there was more to this than just a friendly conversation. Spy may have excellent manipulation skills, but Medic was sure that whatever it was that Spy wanted, he wasn't going to get it.

"Must be hard, then," Spy began.

"What is?" Medic asked, obviously annoyed.

"Seeing the BLU [f/n] slaughtered before your eyes."

Medic's patience was wearing thin. He stirred the pot as fast as he could, silently trying to motivate the vegetables to soften faster. 'He's incredibly interested in my relationship with [f/n]...' Medic thought to himself. 'I'm not going to give him the satisfaction he wants.'

"I don't know, Spy. How does it feel when you're the one killing her?"

Spy tensed. As much as he would hate to admit it, he felt threatened. But he knew there was another way he could approach Medic's blatant recent interest in you. "I would never touch her body in THAT matter."

Medic stopped stirring. He wasn't an idiot; he knew what Spy meant. Medic could feel the hate rising in him. Did Spy think this was a competition? "I would never let you touch her, period."

Spy chuckled, surprised at Medic's sudden defense. "Wow, why so protective? You don't control her. She's not yours."

'So this is what Spy wanted,' Medic thought. 'He's trying to mark his territory.'

"She's not yours either, Spy."

"I know that," Spy said matter-of-factly.

"Then why are you so childishly jealous of the fact that I'm the one taking care of her?"

Spy went quiet, then finally mustered up a response. "I'm not jealous of you. I just don't trust you."

Medic turned the stove off and reached for an empty bowl in the cupboard. He chuckled to himself. "[F/n] trusts me."

Spy stood quiet and still, watching Medic scramble around finalizing his dish.

"And you fail to realize that you're hard to trust, yourself, Spy," Medic continued after a moment of silence. He poured the pot of soup into the bowl, grabbed a spoon, and began to walk past Spy. When he was just past his teammate, he said clearly, "And for the record, I don't trust you either." 

And with that, Medic headed back up to your room, leaving a defeated and angered Spy behind.


	10. Yes, Doctor.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Medic and the reader have an incredibly intimate and long-anticipated moment in her room, causing the unease of a certain teammate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS IT! The moment we've all been waiting for!
> 
> Thank you guys so much for all the kindness and support. I'm super proud of this chapter and I hope you guys enjoy the hell out of it because it was a joy to write. Stay tuned for more chapters and go check out my new Supernatural story, Dollhouse! It won't be updated as often as this story will, but once this is finished, all my attention is going to Dollhouse.
> 
> What do you think? Leave a comment below and make sure you let me know you're enjoying it by bookmarking and leaving kudos! I love you guys so much, you're the best!

After a few minutes of waiting, you hear the pleasant sound of your doorknob jiggling its way clockwise, notifying you that your caretaker was back. You attempted to sit up in your bed, but after an aching pain in the pit of your stomach announced its arrival, you slumped back down. Medic opened the door, the bowl of soup in his other hand. His face changed from stone and serious to warming and playful. 

"I made you some soup," he announced. "Is that okay?"

He closed the door behind him and made his way to the side of your bed, setting the steaming bowl of soup on your nightstand when he arrived. He placed one arm around you back and the other under your armpit, helping you sit up and earning a hiss from you. But when you looked into his eyes after you sat up, the pain disappeared. He smirked back at you.

"It's perfect. Thank you, Doctor," you replied.

Medic hesitated slightly before moving the bowl of soup to the pillow you had just placed on your lap, his eyes fixed on yours and his expression serious again.

This didn't go unnoticed. He reacted this way all the time, but you had no idea what made him suddenly get so serious. You assessed the situation briefly in your mind. You were sick, Medic was taking care of you, you two were alone, and now was a perfect chance to try and get an answer out of him. You parted your lips, but before you could say a word, Medic began talking.

"[F/n], try it," he said, taking the spoon out of the bowl and placing it in your hand. You closed your lips, deciding to eat now and ask questions later. You dipped the spoon back into the bowl and made sure it was filled with the broth. You blew on it briefly before putting the warm metal utensil in your mouth, dumping the golden liquid on your tongue and placing the spoon back into the bowl. You swallowed and waited, assessing the taste it left in your mouth. Medic anticipated your response. You let the salty taste settle, trying to pay attention to the chopped vegetables that provided a delicate sensation you could only describe as 'green'. The corners of your lips turned upward and you could see Medic getting excited next to you. "How is it?" he asked.

"Medic, this is amazing! I had no idea you could cook!" 

Medic smiled pridefully and let out a sigh of relief, satisfied with himself and also thankful that it was enough to please you. You took spoonful after spoonful in your mouth, letting it warm the cavern before sliding down your throat, bringing a satisfying heat instead of the hellish kind your fever had given you earlier. You had no idea what exactly was in the soup, but honestly, that was your last concern. Medic sat patiently, watching your every move and enjoying it. His heart was warming with every move, every touch, every slurp, every swallow. He had felt like he had fulfilled his duty to take care of you, even though he wasn't finished. He could see the genuine smile on your face to have food in your stomach, and he shuddered in delight with every moan and compliment that came out of your mouth.

When you were finished slurping the remains, you leaned back, your stomach full, and smiled at Medic. "That was incredible," you said. Medic took the bowl and spoon from your hands, lightly brushing his hands over yours. He placed it on the nightstand and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the side of your bed and folded his hands together. He looked into your eyes once again, and as you looked back, he felt his heart squeeze. He examined your slightly disheveled hair, your grin, the pink that dawned on your cheeks, the natural redness of your lips, and the way that everything looked absolutely perfect in this moment. He found himself losing his focus, and snapped himself back to the conversation.

"Danke, liebling. Honestly. It means a lot," he confessed. You were slightly taken aback at the sincerity and honesty that suddenly escaped from the larger man's lips, but this new found intimacy shared between you two was incredibly relaxing. You could feel the impulse to grab his hands rising, and before you could register it, your hand placed itself delicately on top of his folded ones. He looked down, his smile fading as he took in the act. His pride was now nerves. You were reaching out to him, something no one has ever done. You purposefully placed your hand on his in comfort. You willingly touched him. The monster.

You looked down at the same time Medic did, and your cheeks turned redder than they already were. You had no idea how you were going to cover yourself, so you decided to just be honest.

"No, Medic."

He looked up at you and locked eyes again, his face slightly puzzled.

"Thank _you_ for everything you've done. You've really gone out of your way for me. And I know you wouldn't be doing this for anyone else here. I don't know if it's because we're friends," he shuddered at the word, "or maybe because it's because I'm a girl, but either way, I really appreciate this." Medic unfolded his hands and wrapped them around your hand, completely engulfing it. He smiled and waited for you to continue, but when you did, his world changed.

"You're so _kind_ , Medic."

His heart stopped and he lost hearing in his ears. His face burned and his eyes widened. He was...kind? He was doing good?

He finally created a beautiful piece of art. He has not destroyed or grossly enhanced anything. He made something beautiful.

And it wasn't the soup. It wasn't something you could hold.

It was your smile. He made you smile. He made you happy, and he was kind for it. 

But the fact that really changed him was the fact that he was not trying to be kind. It came _naturally_.

He was _genuinely_ good.

He was like you.

He stared at you like a baby who had just heard their mother sing to them for the first time. His eyes watered and his eyebrows pushed and raised together. He looked into each of you eyes, expecting to find some sort of hidden code, but he found none. Just the wonderful pools that stared back at him with all the love in the world. His chest tightened and so did his hands around yours. His head was void of all thoughts. It was clear and serene. He was at peace.

His heart raced as he gulped, still staring into your eyes. Then, something snapped. Quickly, Medic pushed himself forward and removed one of his hands from yours to place it on your cheek as he pulled you closer to him. His eyes fluttered close and he leaned his head slightly to the right, preparing himself for the most fantastic sensation he would ever experience. He smacked his lips to yours, letting your warmth radiate into his skin.

You had no time to process what he was doing; this was all happening so fast. Your eyes were shot open when he placed his lips on yours. You had no idea what had made him lean forward and get so intimate with you, but you'd be damned if you didn't enjoy every moment of it.

The kiss was short-lived, as this was a complete impulse decision. Medic quickly removed himself to examine your reaction. You stared at him blankly, your mind a mush. He breathed deeply and his eyebrows rose in concern, quickly looking for a sign that you enjoyed it. You looked back, finally letting the realization train slam itself into your mind and heart, and you smiled weakly. You put your small hands on either side of his face and pulled him back towards you. He immediately followed your hands and helped you push him back onto your lips. You smiled into the long-awaited kiss, allowing your lips to touch and pull in rhythm with his. He placed his right hand on you cheek and steadied himself with his left. He could taste his creation on your lips, satisfied with the fact that it actually tasted fantastic.

You let go of his face and he pulled away, looking at you once more, returning the love-filled gaze you gave him prior to the kiss.

To ruin the moment, three rapid knocks hit forcefully on your door, causing both you and Medic to jump exaggeratedly and turn your heads to the door. Medic looked back at you and nodded slightly, proceeding to stand up from his hunched position and walking towards the door. He placed a large hand in the knob and opened it, a quick and forceful draft passing him.

He examined the hallway. Empty.

"Hallo?" Medic called out, looking suspiciously left and right, then back to you. He shrugged and closed the door. He made his way back to you, his suspicion turning into a soft smile when he saw you looking adorably curious at him. When he reached your side, he placed his left hand on your forehead, moving it to the back of your head, smoothing your hair out of your face before he gave you a delicate peck on the forehead. "You need rest, liebling," he mumbled into your skin.

You looked at him as he pulled away, smiling. Your eyes squinted slightly. This was your chance.

"You know, you never told me what 'liebling' meant," you stated firmly.

Medic chuckled and cupped your face with his left hand, inching closer to you until his lips were ghosting above your own. "You're my darling. You always have been," he responded before passionately kissing you again. You leaned into the kiss, your heart swelling and your face burning. 

You finally had your answer.

He broke away after a moment of savoring your taste and turned off your lamp. "Get some rest, liebling."

You watched as he took the empty dish off the nightstand. You chuckled as he walked out, getting a final glance at you before shutting your door with him on the other side. "Yes, doctor," you said under your breath. You snuggled into your covers and closed your eyes once more.

\----

Spy paced his Smoking Room frantically, the images he had just seen flashing in his mind with no control. Following Medic to your room was a horrendous idea. Sneaking in behind him was even worse. His hands shook and his face sweat underneath his mask. He messily poured himself some hard liquor and shoved it down his throat, trying to calm himself down enough to think about what in the world he was going to do.

He was fucked.


	11. Everything He Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy recounts the details from the evening before after a sleepless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. Sorry this update is so late. As I mentioned before and as some of you guys know, things are kind of difficult right now and I'm actually trying to fight off a horrible sickness. We're all in rough spots, so please pray for our recoveries and health if you do pray. If not, virtual fistbumps are accepted as well!
> 
> This chapter is focused on Spy's feelings towards the reader. Sorry it's so short, I'll have a longer update soon! Remember to let me know you're enjoying this series (and my new Supernatural series, 'Dollhouse') by bookmarking, commenting, and giving kudos! Thank you so much for your support!
> 
> Warning: Smut, Angst

If anyone had asked you what had happened that evening in your room, you would have simply responded, "I don't know."

What the hell was that? It wasn't like you didn't enjoy it, but when you came down from your fever completely and made a speedy recovery the next day, you were confused beyond belief. Medic, the man you had been pining after since you joined the team, had kissed you.

Kissed.

Like actually willingly and truthfully putting his lips wholeheartedly and lovingly against yours. And he didn't have any alcohol or anything. 

What the actual fuck did that kiss mean?

Was it even a kiss? Like, did you have a fever dream and hallucinate the entire thing? Honestly, that idea wasn't completely out of the ordinary, but whatever drugs Medic gave you were so fucking hardcore that your fever was gone in what felt like an instant when you woke up. Maybe it was the drugs that messed with your head? You didn't know. But all you did know was that no matter what, nobody could find out about this.

\---

Another restless night was completed as Spy rolled over in his bed and read his clock. 0600 exactly. No hours of sleep. Fantastic.

He sighed deeply, staring at his ceiling, searching for an answer. He examined every crack and crevice above his mattress so many times last night that he had it memorized. He shut his eyes, running a slender hand from his eyelids and pulling down to stretch out his scraggly face. He blew out a puff of air and mentally prepared himself to get out of bed. Two bony feet hit the floor lightly and sloppily and he sat there, on the edge of his bed, with his head in his hands and the most overwhelming sense of dejection invading every crevice of his body and travelling through each complex tube until it reached his artificial heart. This was it. He lost. 

He had never gotten so upset over something like this before. He had his heart broken in the past, but this didn't feel like a broken heart. It was shattered. Destroyed. Pounded into the earth until it wasn't visible to the human eye and then drowned in gasoline and set ablaze like his heart was when you first moaned his name. He wanted that so desperately. He wanted you in his sheets laying peacefully and calm, allowing him to work you sensually in every way possible until you were his forever. He wanted to kiss you on your most sensitive spots until you weakly gasp out an 'I love you'. He wanted to hold you. Just once was all he asked for. He never realized just how romantic he wanted to be with you. Before, he was so set on getting in your pants, but now that he sees that he can't have you in any way, he wants nothing more than you show you how much he can love you.

He wanted to hold your hand when you got nervous before a battle. He wanted to sneak up behind you and give you kisses when you were least expecting it. He wanted to hold you and play with your hair in front of the other men so he could let them know that he would destroy anyone who tried anything with you. He wanted to see you walk down the main staircase in a formal floor-length red dress and twirl you around while you were lost in each other's eyes.

He wanted to have you.

He wanted you to want him.

But how long have you and Medic been seeing each other? For all he knew, this could've been the 80th time you've kissed him. The thought in itself made him sick to his stomach. He glanced over to his bar where endless bottle of alcohol stood. He instinctively stood up and made his way over, pouring himself a glass. He held the curved glass in his hand, trembling slightly. The bags under the eyes on his unmasked face sunk deeper with each blink. He stared into the glass, examining the maroon galaxy shimmering in the acute sunrise that snuck its way through the crevice inbetween his satin curtains, whispering 'good morning'. He downed the glass without a second thought or a gag. How was it that someone so cunning, someone so sly and smart and someone believed to be heartless, could sink to this level? 

He placed his elbows on his bar and rested his forehead in his hands. He remembered how delicately Medic held your face in his hands as his lips danced with yours. He remembered the smile on your face as you pulled him in for a second kiss and savored his taste with such wanting. He wanted to be kissed like that by you. He wanted your body on top of his, your hips straddling his, and you lips pecking against his. He wanted to feel each smirk in your kisses. He wanted to feel you lightly shift your weight and accidentally grind your core against his. He wanted to run his hands up and down your sides and then finally settle on a fistful of hair and a firm grip on your hip. He wanted you to giggle when he kissed your neck and whispered French nothings into your ear. He wanted you to gasp when he started sucking on your sweet spot and moan his name when his hand traveled lower and gave your ass a squeeze. He wanted to feel you fill up with love and lust above him, and then he wanted to pull you over so he was dominating. He wanted to kiss every part of you, traveling lower and lower until his mouth was at the hem of your shirt. He wanted to undress you and gaze at the masterpiece that was your naked body. He wanted to kiss your lips fiercely as his hand groped your chest and his other hand ran through your hair. He wanted to suck on your breast until you cried out for him to help you release. He wanted to drag his lips down your midriff and kiss your thighs softly, making his way deeper and deeper into the valley between your legs. He wanted to breath hotly on your already wet core and make you beg for his kisses against your lower lips. He wanted to press his soft lips against your clit and lightly drag his tongue over your most sensitive spot, flicking gently and earning a low cry from you. He wanted to press his thumb against your clit to keep it busy while his mouth kissed your folds, burying his face deep between your legs. He wanted to lick your wet entrance and move his tongue to the rhythm of your rocking hips and your soft moans. He wanted to hear the dirtiest curse words erupt from your beautiful mouth as he slid his tongue in and out of your hotness, making sure to stop and kiss and lick every part of you he could before going back in again. He wanted to taste the sweetest juices that flowed from you as you cry out his name. He wanted to turn you over on your stomach and position himself over your bare back as much as possible while his fingers took you from behind, preparing you for what was yet to come. He wanted to feel your hips rising off the bed so you could take his long, slender fingers as much as possible while cursing into the pillow that smelled just like him. He wanted you to beg for him to take you completely. He wanted you to get so hot and bothered that you undress him yourself while giving him to neediest and lust-filled kisses imaginable. He wanted you to pull him on top of you and surrender yourself, allowing him to take control and please you like Medic could never please you. He wanted to ride on you and kiss your neck while you moaned how amazing he felt inside of you. He wanted you to run your hand over the top of his mask and beg him to take it off. He wanted to reveal himself to you and watch as your pupils dilate and you tell him just how beautiful he is. He wanted to pick up the pace and feel you tighten around him and cover him in the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. And he wanted to change positions and start the routine all over again.

That's the only time he would be okay with a sleepless night.  


	12. Chamber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Medic gathers up the courage to propose an idea that's been tugging at his mind recently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the unannounced hiatus, but I'm not dead! Things are getting better at home, but it's a long process, so thank you so much for being so patient with the slow updates. It's been difficult to have time to think of how the story is going to progress, but I think I have a good idea. It's not going to end soon, though! So keep checking back for updates!
> 
> If you are enjoying the chapter thus far, please let me know by commenting, bookmarking, and/or giving it kudos! Thank you everyone for all the kind words and support! You guys are the best! Check out my Supernatural series, Dollhouse, if you ever get a chance! I love you all!

It must have been weeks since you first fell ill. At least two, maybe three. You had lost count of the days now that everything to you was a warm, colorful, high that never seemed to cease. The days seemed longer, but you were okay with that. The sun shone brighter, laughter was louder, the jokes were funnier, the air was cleaner, and every kiss shared between you and Medic was sweeter than the last. Since your recovery, things at the base seemed to have gone from forlorn to jovial. Of course, it could just have been an illusion to you, since your optimism was at an all-time high, but you were sure that things had changed. Everything just felt like it was where it needed to be.

  
The skill you possessed at hiding your affection towards Medic was so impressive that it could've snagged you an Academy Award. Dell, who at first held so much suspicion that it invaded his dreams, was too busy fawning over you now that you were healthy and constantly out-and-about to notice the reason behind your attitude change. When you weren't helping him with his repairs or singing impromptu duets with him in the common area, you found yourself taking on the role of Medic's assistant: a role that he chose and proposed himself. Romantically, not much happened. Sexually, it didn't even exist. The most that was exchanged between the two of you were lingered gazes and quick pecks in the shadows of the base. It was hardly a romance, to be honest. But you know what? You didn't care what it was. Whatever it was, you were satisfied with. The flame that was born during the kiss in your bedroom was never extinguished. And if Medic wanted to take it slow, you were fine with it. An excitement sparked inside your stomach at the thought of not rushing into anything with your German superior. Words were not needed to establish whatever was going on between you two. You didn't have to talk about it. You didn't want to. Because honestly, you couldn't put it into words.

  
Which leads you to where you were now: in Medic's office, alone, with Scout. An off day for Scout and a clumsy home-run slide was all that was needed for him to be laying shirtless and helpless on the cot in front of you, wincing at the 'deadly' scrape that began at his right pecs and continued down to his hipbone with other streaks of pain scattered on his right arm and leg.

  
You grabbed the wet cloth by your side and began wiping and cautiously dabbing the dirt and blood off of his toned body. He let out small gasps as you worked. "Scout, as fantastic as that hit was, you really gotta be careful. I swear, if you were any more excited when you slid, you probably would have rubbed the skin off your body."

  
Scout laughed at your exaggeration. "Yeah, yeah."

  
You put the cloth down and reached for the hydrogen peroxide, shaking it up and beginning to unscrew the lid. "This is gonna sting a little, okay?"

  
He scoffed. "Pssh, I'm no dandelion, kay? I'm tough as nails. I can handle-" he reached for the bottle and turned it so he could read the label, "- _perro x idey_."

  
You giggled softly and put the bottle out of his reach. " _Peroxide_ ," you corrected him.

  
Scout squinted his eyes as he smirked. "You're so smart," he joked as he tapped his finger to his head. You rolled your eyes and began loading a cotton ball with the liquid. Scout looked around, curious. "Hey, isn't Medic gonna get on ya for bein' in here?" he asked.

  
Your eyes widened slightly. Remembering that it was you that insisted Scout go to the infirmary with you so you could clean him up, you validated his concern. Returning to your work, you explained, "Nah, Medic and I are cool. He won't mind. I'm always messing with his stuff, anyways."

  
Scout chuckled. "I wouldn't do that if I were ya."

  
You stopped your actions once again. Your eyes squinted as you looked as Scout suspiciously. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice an octave lower than usual.

  
Scout propped himself on his uninjured elbow, allowing him to talk to you closer to your level. "Well, I mean, he's a scary guy, ya know? Ya never know if you're gonna make him mad or somethin', I dunno."

  
You shook your head and placed the soaked cotton ball to Scout's upper arm, forcing a delicate wince from his lips. "I don't think he's scary."

  
Scout smirked. "He's not gonna get mad at _YOU_ ," he clarified. He exaggeratedly rolled his eyes and gestured towards you. "Look at ya, you're _ADORABLE_. No one can get mad at _YOU_."

  
You laughed along with Scout, not noticing yourself flipping your hair in the process. "Thanks," you joked. A slight tint of pink danced it way to your cheeks as you kept smiling.  
Scout returned to his previous position and raised his hurt arm in order to give you access to his side. He moaned ever-so-slightly at the feeling of your hands touching his bare chest. While you preoccupied yourself with your work, a thought popped into Scout's mind.

  
"Ya ever have a boyfriend, [f/n]?"

  
You choked on your own spit. "E-Excuse me?" Your eyes widened as you stared at the boy's face in need of an explanation.

  
"Woah, woah, don't get all nuts. I was thinkin' about how _cute_ you are and well," Scout had trouble explaining himself, "I just wanted to know if you ever dated anyone...is all..."

  
You could see him mentally curse himself for asking such a dumb question. You eyed him suspiciously, although you were all-too-familiar with him calling you 'cute' and 'adorable'. "Scout, are you-"

  
"I'm not puttin' the moves on ya, I swear! It was just a question!"

  
You let out a shaky breath and finished cleaning Scout's cuts. "Yeah, I've had boyfriends before. I don't have the best track record with them, though."

  
Scout sat up after you turned around to throw the cotton ball in the trash and clean up your equipment. He held his shirt in a ball in his hand. "Ya ain't interested in anybody?"

  
"I didn't say that, Scout."

  
"So ya are," Scout concluded.

  
"I didn't say _THAT_ , either." You finished your clean up. "Why, are you interested in anybody?" You smiled, enjoying the friendship and intimacy you shared with Scout.

  
Scout gulped. "Well, I mean, no? Well, yes AND no. Ya see-"

  
You laughed. "We all know about Pauling, dude."

  
Scout let out an uneasy breath. "That's not who I'm talkin' about. I mean, yeah, she's hot. But I've been thinkin' about-"

  
Suddenly, the office door slid open to reveal an unsuspecting Medic. He raised his gaze from the floor to you and a still-shirtless Scout. He jumped and placed a hand to his chest, gasping then quickly recovering. "Oh, scheisse, I didn't expect anyone to be in here."

  
You smiled goofily and Scout ditched the idea of finishing his sentence. "I hope you don't mind," you started. "I was just taking care of Scout." Said boy raised his hand nervously, letting out a small wave.

  
Medic began taking off his coat and removing his gloves. "Nein, it's fine. I trust you."

  
You slyly shot a glance at Scout as if to tell him, 'I told you so'. He smirked in response, hopping down from the cot and wincing slightly at the burning sensation on his side. "You feel better, Scout?"

  
He twisted his torso from side to side, prepping himself for any burning that would continue throughout the day. "Yeah, I'm fine. I've had plenty worse, I'll tell ya. Thanks for patchin' me up, nurse."

  
You laughed at the new title. "Just be careful, okay?"

  
Scout walked out the door, raising a hand in the air and saying, "Yeah, yeah. Whateva, mom."

  
The door slammed shut and you looked at Medic, who was sporting an amused grin. "Wow, ' _nurse_ '." You giggled as he repeated Scout. "Looks like I might have some competition here."

  
"What, because you're not the only doctor now? Or because Scout was alone with me?" You teased as you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the cot and folding your hands in front of you. Medic noticed your flirting and it made him grin even harder.

  
"Both," he answered. A matching grin made its way to your face. Your heart danced as Medic walked towards you. You turned to face him and he brought his hands to your face, raising your chin and lowering his lips onto yours passionately. You immediately pushed your lips against his, letting them rest onto the familiar softness. You sighed, enjoying the first passionate kiss since your evening alone with him weeks ago. He hesitantly removed himself from your lips, biting his own while looking into your shining eyes.

  
"What was that for?" you asked, biting your own lip as you smiled up at him.

  
"Nothing," he said. "I just wanted to kiss you."

  
Your heart raced and for a moment, you felt light-headed due to the pure bliss. He leaned back in to kiss you again, this time just as romantic as the last. You placed your hands on his chest as you raised yourself on your toes to make sure he didn't have to bend down all the way to get to you. He placed his hands on your hips and smiled into the kiss at your shortness. He easily lifted you off the ground and sat you on the edge of the cot, making the height difference less intense and earning a surprised gasp from you. He looked at you deep in your eyes as you readjusted yourself on the cot, bring your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. He placed himself between your legs, causing your core to heat and tingle, sending shivers down your spine as he deepened the kiss. Your blood was distributed evenly between your cheeks and between your legs. Medic placed his hand on your hips again, squeezing slightly, bringing more blood to your face. His lips massaged yours delicately, making sure to touch your soft pink lips as much as possible. You broke away suddenly, earning a disappointed growl from deep within Medic's chest.

  
"This is the first time you've ever kissed me so...thoroughly," you stated. Medic laughed and pecked his lips against yours again.

  
"This is the first time I've gotten you completely alone in a long time," Medic replied, completely unaware that you weren't alone the first time. "You have no idea how much I think about this." He placed his lips to yours after speaking to you so huskily. Your heart beat faster, if possible. He was driving you crazy. You needed more.

  
Your hand reached up into his hair and you pushed his head against yours harder. All sense of right and wrong was out the window. You didn't care if hooking up with Medic like this was wrong. It felt so right to you. You needed his touch like nothing you've ever needed before.

  
He pulled away again, biting his lip once more and panting slightly from the excitement. "Liebling, I need to ask you something."

 

You looked at him, concerned. "Yes?"

  
He kept his hands at your sides, gripping slightly as he gathered the courage to ask you his question. "Please, don't take this the wrong way," he started. You watched his eyes light up with desire, "but I would really enjoy it if you joined me tonight..." His voice trailed off as he looked at you, slightly ashamed, in anticipation.

  
You were speechless. Your heart had stopped, exhausted from pumping so much blood to your face. "Y-You mean, for the night?" Medic nodded, leaning his head closer to yours. You sighed, looking at the floor as if it were going to give you an answer. "What if someone sees us?"

  
"We will not be doing anything but sleeping, liebling," Medic pleaded. "But I understand if you're not comfortable with that thought yet."

  
Your eyes shot up to look at his. "Oh, no, I'm really glad you asked, actually!"

  
His expression softened. "I just crave the feeling of you in my arms."

  
You smiled widely at the all-too-familiar thought. "Me too..."

  
Medic pressed his lips to your forehead, mumbling a "gut" quietly before kissing it. You giggled, excited for what could await you tonight.


	13. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scout confronts Spy about the behavior change of Spy's that only Scout can seem to notice. Scout is expecting a confession, but is only left with more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly, has it been a while! I know I promised a chapter a loooooot sooner than this, but life happens. And it has changed a lot since I last talked to you guys! A lot of good things, as well as a handful of bad things, have happened, and I completely took up all of my time. But I figured now that I have some free time, I should upload this chapter as a holidays gift to all you little lovelies! 
> 
> Thank you all for the flood of kind messages I was greeted with when I logged back in today. I'm very touched by all of your understanding and kindness! 
> 
> This chapter focuses on the relationship between Scout and Spy, one that I personally see as father-son. I know a lot of this may sound romantic-ish, but believe me, that's not my intention!!! It dips a little into Spy's mysterious backstory and emphasizes how he feels he needs to hide everything, but Scout just wants to know how he is emotionally, and he unintentionally begins to make connections that may or may not be touched later on in this series.

Scout made his clumsy way towards the common area where he found the usual: Dell strumming on his guitar, Pyro sat secluded with their stuffed animals, Tavish drinking and listening to Dell's melodies, and Mundy laying on the ripped loveseat with his limbs dangling lazily over the edges, fiddling with God-knows-what. Scout made it over to the stained sofa occupied by Tavish and motioned for him to move over.

  
"Move it, Cyclops. Your fat ass is takin' up the whole sofa."

  
Tavish complied with Scout's request, making sure to take his time. "I'm too sober to take orders from a child," he joked.

  
"Ha, ha, whateva." Scout threw his weight onto the newly-available space and made himself comfortable next to Tavish. As soon as Scout let out a relaxed sigh, Spy silently walked into the room, unamused and sluggish. Scout's ears perked as he noticed Spy's uncharacteristic shuffling, although it went unnoticed to the other teammates. "Hey, yo, Spy," Scout started hesitantly. "You alright there?"

  
The other teammates halfheartedly gave Spy their attention, unaware that he had been standing there before them. Spy glared at Scout through his mask, his sleep deprivation highlighted by the dark circles around his cold eyes. Even though he was surprised that Scout would be the one to not only notice something wrong with Spy, but to bring it up in public, Spy grunted in response. "I'm fine. Never been better." He continued on his way while Scout rolled his eyes in response.

  
"Now I gotta go investigate or some shit," Scout mumbled to himself, genuinely worried about Spy, but also pissed at himself for caring. He forced himself off the couch and began to follow Spy, feeling ridiculous that he had to play Spy's role in how he was stalking his teammate. Once Spy made his way outside, Scout called out to him. "Hey, Spy-"

  
Spy flinched ever-so-slightly and turned around, a scowl not too different from his usual one plastered on his face. His red accents glowed in the warm sunlight. "What do you want?" He spat at the concerned Bostonian.

  
Scout let out a sigh and rolled his eyes once again. "Look, I know we don't get along. At all. But I know that somethin' is wrong and...I guess I wanna help."

  
Spy raised an unamused eyebrow.

  
"Okay, don't give me that crap, okay? It's stupid seein' ya all sulky. Hell, I don't know why I give a shit about it, but I do. And I suck at talkin' about these things so please shut me up already-"

  
"Why should I tell you what's going on in my life?"

  
Scout stopped. "...Ya...ya don't, okay? Ya really don't."

  
Spy looked intensely at Scout, his wounds still visible. He squinted uncomfortably. This was his only chance at an outlet, but he could never tell Scout anything about you or what has been happening. It wasn't like he wasn't used to bottling his emotions, though. He was born to hide. He's been hiding himself since childhood, and it shouldn't change now. He straightened his slightly-hunched back and took in a deep breath. "Scout," he started, "your concern is appreciated, but your help is not needed."

  
"Bullshit."

  
"I'm fine."

  
"Stop lying through your teeth already." Spy's stomach began to churn. He allowed Scout to continue, curious as to what Scout may or may not know. "You think you're some big macho guy just because you hide your feelings. You think you're doing yourself some great justice by hiding literally everything about you but all your doing is hurting yourself. You know why? Because when someone who cares comes along, like me or [y/n], you shut them out." Spy shuddered at the mention of your name. "If there's something bad goin' on with you, you don't hide it. Hiding ain't solved nobody's problems. Get over yourself or continue torturing yourself with whatever it is that you're torturing yourself with. Those are your only two choices. Pick one."

  
The warm air suddenly became silent and cold. Spy remained speechless, astounded that Scout would take such an authoritative, serious, confrontational tone with him like this. Then, it settled. The anger began rising within Spy's unhealthy body. His jaw clenched as Scout's words finally hit him.

  
"You don't understand nearly as much as you think you do, Scout. You're a child. A naive, immature child. I don't owe you or anyone else anything. Not an apology, not my backstory, nothing. And if you dare open your lop-sided mouth and preach to me like that again-"

  
"What? What's gonna happen, Spy? Ya gonna kill me? Kill me for tryin' to help ya?"

  
"That's not what I was implying."

  
"Ya know, I didn't come out here for a fight, Spy. I came out here because you're hurt, and that's what teammates do. They fuckin' help each other."

  
"I don't need your help."

  
"Don't you fuckin' say that again. You're not above my help or anyone else's help, Spy. You were hired for the same reason I was hired. To fight. To protect. To defend."

  
"It's also my job to not get you involved in my job."

  
"Your job is the same ass job as mine."

  
"You don't think I'm trying to protect you, Scout!?"

  
Scout fell silent, not sure how to process Spy's vague outburst. His chest pounded with every dramatic heartbeat and the blood remained dancing through his veins rapidly. He took deep breaths, staring at Spy each time.

  
"Protect me from what?"

  
Spy realized what he had said and immediately began panicking, flashing back to the horrible memories that stained his mind every time someone learned his identity. Scout could not end up like them.

  
"Forget it," he mumbled through his breath.

  
"Protect me from what?" Scout repeated, each syllable enunciated.

  
Spy swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn't confess his secrets to Scout. Not here. Not now. Not ever. He began forming words before they processed in his mind. "I have a very...dangerous job, Scout."

  
"So what? We all do."

  
"I can't...I can't risk anyone knowing anything about it."

  
"What the fuck are you hiding from us?" Scout waited for a response, but when he did not receive one, he continued. "I don't need to know anythin' about your job, Spy. I need to know how you're feelin'."

  
Spy could feel his breakdown. His world was collapsing and he couldn't stop it. "Please, respect the fact that I'm not ready to talk about this, Scout."

  
Scout's heart skipped at the paternal intimacy in Spy's voice. He felt connected to Spy more than he ever had, and he had no idea what was going on. Spy hesitantly turned around and began walking away again, still panicking internally. "Spy?" Scout called out.

  
Spy stopped and slowly turned around, making sure not to look Scout, the boy who knew more than he personally thought he knew, in the eyes. He waited, giving Scout the opportunity to continue.

  
"Look, I didn't mean to get started on a touchy subject. I just know that there's more to this than you're tellin' us, and it won't do any of us any good with you sluggin' around."

  
Spy nodded understandingly.

  
"And, uh, I know you don't want to trust me, but...you can. I got a big mouth, but I ain't never given anyone's secrets away," Scout confessed, exposing his empathetic side with Spy.

  
Spy nodded again, less tense than before. "Thank you...Scout."

  
Scout looked down and kicked some dirt, uncomfortable in the awkward silence that followed. He put his bandaged hands in his back pockets and looked back up at Spy, who was already almost out of Scout's range of vision. He sighed. "Jeez, what the fuck just happened..."


	14. Yes, Doctor (AUTHOR'S NOTE / HIATUS UPDATE- PLEASE READ!!!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please read this all the way through. I apologize for my absence, but this should clear things up. Thanks for sticking around for over a year!!!

Hello my friends! It's been a while!

 

Okay, "a while" is a huge understatement. It's been around a year since the last update. It breaks my heart to not be able to update my stories, even though I'm not sure anyone is even sticking around for update lmao. I spent a little time replying to your comments and messages, and it truly warms my heart to see such kind words and strong encouragement from this community. I love you all from the bottom of my heart, and I can't wait to get back in touch with you guys!

 

First of all, I deeply apologize for the random,  unannounced hiatus. I never planned to stop writing, but once I got caught up in adult life *cringes*, I just never found the time to sit down and type any new chapters. I feel so awful making you guys wait for so long, but I hopefully you wont wait much longer. Let me summarize what's been going on for me real quick:

 

Around the time I stopped writing, I had just ended a 3-year-long relationship with my best friend. He broke my trust and hurt me so horribly that it made me spiral into a deep, deep rut. I wasn't in a good state for months and months, and never found the motivation to write. In fact, I had forgotten about it for a while because I was so preoccupied with the fact that the person I was going to marry in 2 years had left my life forever. But from that pain during those months and months, I made other forms of art besides writing stories. 

 

I got accepted into a university near home, and around the time I got accepted, I had finally fulfilled one of life's dreams of forming a band and releasing my own music. I can happily say that we are still going strong a year later and are still making lots of music! About a month after my acceptance, I had gotten a job down at a skate shop, which took up a lot of my time. About a month after THAT, I got second job at a book shop, so I was VERY busy!

 

I eventually quit those two jobs to focus on my studies and maintain a decent GPA to stay in my department. I was able to eventually start the process of moving on from my past relationship and took time to better myself and "date" myself, as some would call it. However, I did have a short relationship with a friend of mine I met at University, one that wasn't _completely_ scarring, but it did leave me with some more emotional bruises. For the majority of it, he treated me much better than my last boyfriend and it boosted my confidence to start my recovery process from ALL of my trauma, scars, damage, and baggage.

 

Now, I've finished my first year at this University, going into my next. I've been working a full-time job at a nice office in the city, which is helping me stay active and focused, plus helping me pay the bills and such. I'm very happy where I am mentally and emotionally right now, and I plan on letting that help me write out some more chapters for you guys!!!

 

Amongst these positive events, I did struggle very much with things and people who set me back on my road to recovery many, many times. However, the past is in the past, no matter how toxic it was. I'm thankful for what I've been through, because now I can have so much more understanding of the world, and I can let that leak into my writing to improve it's quality.

 

If you're reading this far, thank you so much! I know I talk a lot, but I promise I'm almost done!

 

It's very difficult right now for me to write anything out for you guys, for example, I'm writing this update at 2:00am when I have work at 9:00am. Oops. Having said that, I am going to try to update and eventually conclude both of my stories: this one and Dollhouse. I can't make any promises, nor can I technically say that this hiatus is finished, but I will consciously be making an effort to write chapters. Keep an eye out for updates, and subscribe (if that's still a thing?? idk, the email update thing??) to get notified when I do post.

 

Again, thank you immensely for everything. If it weren't for y'all and y'all's encouragement, I probably wouldn't even be typing this right now. So honestly, thank you, thank you, thank you, a million times thank you!!!

 

-Nikki


End file.
